Past Indiscretion
by GuiltyPleasuresAndDeadlySins
Summary: Tony had thought he'd left his old life behind. He was wrong. And when he finds himself facing down an old colleague, he has some difficult choices to make. He's already made one mistake, can he avoid making another? Full summary inside
1. Prologue

_**A/N:** Hello! I'm finally posting something...and admittedly not something I should be posted :-p. I should probably try and finish a couple of my other stories, but this has been bugging at my brain for the past couple of days, and I needed to get it out. This is sort of in the vein of the first chapter of It's Not Over._

_**Summary:**__ Tony had thought he'd left his old life behind. He was wrong. And when he finds himself facing down an old colleague, he has some difficult choices to make. He's already made one mistake, can he avoid making another, especially with the mysterious organization now looking at NCIS with curious eyes? After all, it's not just his life that's on the line anymore._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I own nothing, regrettably. :-(

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I stared at the woman now sat beside the rifle one of her hands was resting on. I knew I should arrest her, but if there was one thing I'd learnt in the years since I'd become Anthony DiNozzo again, it was never arrest someone from your past. Especially when it was someone from your unknown past.

"What's it going to be?" she raised an eyebrow. "You going to take me in? Let me near your team? Or you going to let me go?"

I hesitated as she stared back at him, eyes amused, curious to see my response. I wasn't sure what I was going to do yet. This wasn't the kind of situation I got into often. (Read: Never). In fact, this was the first time I'd seen anyone from my old life since I returned to my original name.

"You pull that trigger," I warned, "and I promise I will take you in. I swear I will, that guy shouldn't die. It's _not_ his time yet."

The woman stared at me for a long moment, and leant her head on one side, leaning even more towards the rifle. I tensed, there was something off about the way she was reacting, instead of getting wary of me, her eyes were getting even more alive, even more amused. It made me wonder: had she finally snapped?

She burst out laughing. "And how would you know what he deserves darling?" Her accent hadn't faded. "You don't know who I work for. Not anymore anyway."

I frowned. She wouldn't have left the O'Reilly's… _No_ O'Reilly hitter left the O'Reilly's. For two reasons. One: being one of the O'Reilly hitters meant that you had really made it in the world. Two: their boss was an utter bastard who would hunt down, torture, and then murder any of his people who decided they were going to branch out without his blessing.

"How'd you get that one? I know he won't have let you out of the fold. He wouldn't have let me out if he had half a choice in the matter."

Her laughter didn't let up. She was practically bent double in her seated position, her breath coming in slight gasps between her gales of hysterical laughter. I watched her, if she had snapped, she was probably at her most dangerous when she was laughing her head off. I wanted to know what had happened that had changed her this much.

"Oh you crack me up lover, and it was probably a bloody good thing he didn't have a choice in the matter. You'd be dead if he had."

I could only stare at her, the way her voice had gone flat, all hilarity fleeing her voice, her eyes darkening, and her hands reaching towards the trigger of her rifle, and the Beretta on her hip. Now I _really_ wanted to know what had happened to her. She used to be such a good friend.

"What happened to you? You never used to be like this. Now, you're practically bipolar, all laughter and hilarity one moment, completely bitter the next. What happened?"

Dark humour lit up her eyes, still darker than the bright light that had inhabited them earlier. She seemed to be debating whether or not to answer me truthfully, or to take my own normal defence mechanism and deflect the questions away from herself, onto another…'safer' topic. (And I hesitated to use that word under the circumstances).

"You don't want to know. It's a long, and mostly boring story. Needless to say, after a hell of a night, it ended in a way I wasn't…"

She trailed off, her eyes being drawn, almost magnetically, over the edge of the roof to where the stage was set for some or other Admiral to give a speech about something or other. To be honest, I didn't even have a clue who the hell she was after. I'd just figured it better to check the roofs.

"In a way you weren't what? What happened? C'mon, you can trust me kid, you know you can, you always have before. So why not now?"

She looked back at me over her shoulder, a faint smirk on her lips, a faint smirk with a faintly evil overtone. She shook her head and turned to settle against the edge of the roof, her eyes tracing someone's movements across the ground, her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the butt of her Berretta and the stock of her rifle.

"A lot of things have changed. I don't know you anymore, and you don't know me. The trust we might have had, is long gone. Believe me."

My sharp eyes finally caught sight of the dog-tags hanging off her belt, they must have fallen out of the pocket of the tight leather trousers she was wearing. (She'd never been in the army that I knew of). She'd always been able to pull off tight clothes, nothing but skin, bones and taught, wiry, muscle.

"What're you on about? Of course we know each other. People don't change that much. Not as much as you obviously believe that we have actually changed."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips and I wondered whether or not she was planning on getting out of this situation, why was she keeping me talking, and why wasn't I arresting her? Oh yes, that was it…if I arrested her, the chances were, she'd spill the beans about who I was.

"Welcome to the masquerade then. You said yourself, I'm practically bipolar now. As for you? You're not much better than me. You joined the bloody American government!"

I really didn't know what that had to do with the situation, but I watched as the slim woman settled herself down, checking the ground with her scope. She probably didn't even need a scope from this distance. From what I remembered, she was one of the best shooters the O'Reilly's had – scope or no scope.

"Not the American government, an American government agency! It's not as if I went and betrayed the whole damn lotta you. Which, for your information, I haven't!"

The rifle moved almost lazily as I watched, and I wondered why I wasn't trying to _stop_ her from taking the shot, why I was just stood here, staring dumbly at her ass. It wasn't a bad ass to stare at. The answer was plain: I didn't think this new woman would just be killing for no reason.

"You probably should've. Would've been safer for you in the long run. Besides, why America? There are other options out there. Plenty of other better options."

There were? There hadn't been when I had left, running, after my wife's death…nothing had seemed important after that, except one thing. The woman had meant nearly everything to me, so I'd taken their infant son and run. It was the best thing I'd ever done. We should've done it sooner, then maybe she'd still be alive.

"Not when I left there weren't. I had to get out, I had to get Dante away. I couldn't just stand there… You understand that don't you?"

She nodded slightly against her sights, and I could hear the sound of the speech beginning. I had to stop her pulling that trigger. But I couldn't move. Why not? Did I owe this woman something more than to stop her and take her in? Yes, yes I did, she'd always looked after Dante when me and his wife couldn't.

"Yeah, I guess I do. You still should've betrayed our asses. That way, we wouldn't be here right now, would we? This mess wouldn't 've happened."

I shook my head. If it hadn't been this, it would've been something else, something possibly worse. At least I knew where I stood with her. We'd been friends, good friends, despite the age difference. She was nine years my junior, and had still been one of the best we…the O'Reilly's had had in her teens.

"I don't think that's true. And I don't think you think it's true either. Something would've happened. They would've found out somehow. That's just how it is."

I could see the smile on her face and saw her settling further into her rifle, ready to pull the trigger. I went to move forward and stopped. I would have to arrest her if she pulled the trigger…but I could always say I'd been on my way up to this roof when the shot had been fired and just had the good luck…

"Maybe it is. But here's what you're going to do now. You're going to arrest me, take me in, and we'll see what happens from there. Comprendi?"

I didn't respond as she pulled the trigger, the shot rang out. She stepped back from her rifle, lifting the Beretta out of it's holster and setting it beside the rifle, and then laying several other weapons beside it (I doubted it was her full complement, just the ones a search would find). She turned to me, hands up in the air.

"Yeah Shan, I understand."

And she smiled.

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_So...tell me what you think? :-D. _


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is Chapter One. Gibbs' gut is going off like anything, Kate's unnerved by Tony, McGee's unnerved by our assassin, and Tony's trying to cover his own tracks. I'm not sure I like this chapter...but hey.

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Gibbs stared as Tony escorted the slim woman down the stairs. She was dressed in tight black, clearly showing that there was nothing to her. Her eyes were defiant, and she leant back into Tony for a second, to look Gibbs up and down and her eyes took on a predatory hint. Short, dark hair fell into said eyes. But Gibbs could tell that this woman was dangerous, anyone looking could. Her movements, despite the cuffs were easy and sensual, her hips swaying, clearly knowing what she looked like.

"Who's this?" Gibbs demanded of his Senior Agent.

"Our assassin," Tony responded coldly, his grin firmly in place. "She was up there with a sniper rifle, I was just at the roof when the shot was fired. She tried to run, but I got her."

"I got sloppy, you got lucky," the woman's Irish accent startled Gibbs for some reason. "Pig."

Tony cuffed the woman around the head and she made a face at him.

"Assaulting a prisoner Agent? Naughty… But I guess people never were very good at following protocol."

"What would _you_ know about protocol assassin?" Tony retorted, pushing her towards the waiting Sedan.

"I could surprise you."

Gibbs saw the way she turned before she went into the car, her foot trailing up Tony's leg, keeping her balance with a practised ease. He also saw how Tony started to lean in towards her.

"DiNozzo!" he snapped.

"Yeah boss?" Tony's voice was vaguely disappointed.

"Stop flirting with the suspect and get her back to the Yard. Find out who the hell she is."

"Oh I'll tell you that," the woman smirked. "Name's Jay Carson. I got nothing to hide."

Gibbs was somewhat confused by the look on his Senior Field Agent's face, it was a cross between startled, scared, and as though he just choked. He frowned. He was missing something, his gut was practically crawling up his throat to beat his brain into listening to it. But what the hell was it that he was missing?

By this time, Tony had Ms Carson in the back of the Sedan and was waiting for Gibbs himself to get in. (Gibbs had sent Kate and Tim back to the Yard earlier after another team was called in to process the scene, the Director had decided it was too much to ask the MCRT to both provide security and then have to process the scene of their failure (although it wasn't really their fault)). Gibbs just shook his head and slipped into the driver's side.

Ten minutes later they were back at the Yard, with Tony looking distinctly green and Ms Carson looking alarmingly unbothered. Tony stared at her in horrified shock.

"What?" she asked, almost nervously. "I can drive faster'n that on iced roads. You think being chucked around a car is enough to make me unnerved?"

Gibbs snarled at her, "Put her in Interrogation One."

"Where you going boss?" Tony asked.

"To get coffee."

Gibbs didn't get out the car as Tony grabbed the woman and pulled her out. The minute they were clear he hit the gas, noticing that the two figures in his rearview mirror did in fact share a look that seemed to say 'what's _his_ problem?'. He didn't like this. He really didn't like this. There was something off about it all.

He paused outside the coffee shop and pulled out his phone.

"Todd?" Kate answered.

"Kate, I want you to find out everything you can about Jay Carson, and any connection she might have to DiNozzo. And don't let him know. Call me when you've got something."

"Yes boss…um…why?"

Gibbs hung up and walked into the coffee shop. He needed time to think about this, to try and figure out why his gut was doing a rather fantastic set of aerobics in an attempt to get his attention. Having got a large cup of coffee, he returned to his car, and then to the scene. The team that had replaced them was doing an alright job at the scene (although the leader was a bit pissed off that the MCRT had already made a collar).

"What we got?" Gibbs asked.

Lead Agent Gina Samson shot him an annoyed look. "You shouldn't be here Agent Gibbs, you know you shouldn't."

"Gin!" her Senior Agent called. "We got the assassin's weapons in the truck."

Gibbs lifted an eyebrow at Gin. "You were saying Agent Samson?"

Gin exhaled sharply. "Look Gibbs, I know we don't like each other, and I know your team weren't responsible for this screw up. In fact if it wasn't for DiNozzo our assassin would probably be in the wind. Still, the Director doesn't want you near the scene for now. I'll keep you updated, and the interrogation's yours, just do me a favour, I don't need to have my ass busted again. I need to try and keep myself in the boss' good graces, he's pissed off at me at the minute."

"Why? He normally reserves that for my team."

"Yeah…we may have run an unsanctioned UC op on an ad hoc basis…he wasn't happy. We got our guy though. Ooh…that's professional…"

Gibbs looked at the rifle that Gin had taken after pulling on gloves. She was right, worse, it was a military rifle.

"Well, Gibbs, that's all I can give you officially. Ducky'll make sure you get a copy of the autopsy, although I think it's going to tell us that the headshot killed him. Get lost Gibbs, let me do my job."

Gin turned her back on Gibbs and set the rifle back in the truck. Gibbs didn't actually mind Gin, seeing as the woman had been given a medical discharge from the Navy, and had somehow managed to get herself into NCIS as a team leader to keep serving her country. She was a true patriot. Still, that wasn't what he wanted to know, what he wanted to know was who the hell Jay Carson was, and why the hell did her and DiNozzo seem to know each other.

Kate stared at her screen. There was virtually nothing on Jay Carson. She'd held a British driver license for eight years, she had a license to carry a gun, and her passport was rarely, if ever used, yet she appeared in many countries, apparently managing to avoid customs. And somehow, she'd got a rifle into the country, if she'd actually brought it into the country. And _no_ connection to DiNozzo. Gibbs wasn't going to be happy.

"Damnit!" she cursed.

"Language Katie," DiNozzo's cheerful voice announced the Senior Agent's flamboyant re-entry to the bullpen. "McGee's watching Ms Carson, what've you got?"

"She's practically a ghost! There's only the vaguest paper trail. Here."

Kate handed DiNozzo what little she'd managed to find and he smirked. "That was all you could find on her, Katie? That's mental. Seriously?"

Kate scowled. "If I'd found anything else, I'd have given it to you, dimwit. And _don't_ call me 'Katie'."

DiNozzo shrugged and made a face at her, heading to his own desk and sitting down, waking his computer up, and flipping through the notes Kate had given him.

"Hey!" she complained. "Those are my notes!" (Gibbs was going to kill her if she couldn't find anything, and she intended to use those notes to keep searching).

"Yeah, and now I'm using them."

Kate glared at DiNozzo for a while until she decided she could continue the search without her notes. She did notice that something seemed off about how DiNozzo had reacted to how little she had on Ms Carson. It was almost as if he _knew_ more than what he'd handed her, as if he _expected_ more. She frowned. Something really was off. She'd learnt in her time working for Gibbs that if her gut was telling her something was wrong, she really should listen to it.

"Something wrong Katie?" as ever, DiNozzo ignored her order not to call her 'Katie'.

"Just a feeling," Kate stated, looking up to smile faintly at DiNozzo. "I think this case is going to give us some startling revelations."

DiNozzo's head came up sharply, eyes holding a slightly scared look. "What do you mean?"

"Like I said, just a feeling."

A feeling that had just increased tenfold. DiNozzo launched into full DiNozzo-mode, completely, making lewd comments, but somehow still doing his work. Kate wondered whether her gut might have been wrong, or if she'd been mistaken about what she'd seen in DiNozzo's eyes, because his actions were those of the man she knew.

At that point, Ducky entered the bullpen. "Ah, Caitlyn, Anthony, where's Jethro?"

"Coffee run," DiNozzo grinned. "Left about half an hour ago."

"Hm…Well, the report states that our Admiral died of the gun-shot wound to the head, Abigail has the bullet and is going to make sure that the young woman we have in custody is guilty, matching it to the rifle she had."

Kate suddenly realized that she was the only member of the team who _hadn't_ seen Ms Carson (apart from perhaps Abby). She hadn't found a picture of Jay Carson anywhere. She sort of wanted to see the woman in person, see whether she actually _looked_ like an assassin.

"I'll go give McGee a break," she announced abruptly, standing up and heading down towards Interrogation.

McGee was in the observation room staring at the assassin. She was slim, far to slim to be healthy, relatively tall, and far too relaxed for someone who was sat in interrogation for murder. She was leant back in her chair, her wrists still restrained behind her back over the back of said chair, and her feet were on the metal table, her head staring at the ceiling, whistling quietly. Her short hair was falling back from her face, and McGee could see her eyes were closed. She didn't look capable of murder. In fact, she looked like a young woman who should've been out partying, not sat in an interrogation room waiting for ex-marine, second-B-for-bastard Gibbs to interrogate her for murder.

"Hey," Kate entered the observation room. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much," McGee responded. "She's just sat there. Staring at the ceiling. It's unnerving."

"It is isn't it? You wouldn't really expect someone that young to be such a proficient assassin would you?"

"No, but there's something…something off about her."

"There's something off about this entire situation. Gibbs wanted me to find a link between her and DiNozzo."

"And why haven't you?" Gibbs demanded as he entered the interrogation room.

"There isn't one. Not in record at least."

Gibbs scowled as he stared through the window at the assassin. She was tapping one foot in time with her whistling now, and seemed to be whistling 'Why Are We Waiting?'.

"There's got to be something!" he snapped.

"About what boss?" DiNozzo asked as he entered the observation room. Gibbs just glared at him. "I haven't really got anything more than Kate did. You going to talk to her now?"

"Not just yet…"

Then Ms Carson looked down into the mirror, and straight into Kate's eyes. Her eyes were unnerving, dark, and deadly (if that could be used to describe eyes), and with a slight smirk on her lips.

"Ich langweile mich." she stated. "Estoy aburrida. Je m'ennuie. Hoselam sar raft. Jestem znudzona. Ima taikutsu danaa, boku. Zau lei mun dou ngo sei laa."

"What's she on about?" McGee asked as she kept speaking in more and more languages.

"She bored," Tony shrugged.

Then she hesitated, still staring into Kate's eyes through the mirror.

"I'm bored!" she yelled. "Could you at least put some music on?"

Gibbs smirked. "I think she's getting unnerved."

"I don't think so boss," Tony grimaced. "I think she's just honestly bored."

Gibbs glared at him. "And what makes you think that?"

Tony shrugged. "Gut."

Gibbs narrowed his eye at his Senior Field Agent. Yet another indication of how wrong things were. He could almost see Tony cursing his slip – he'd always been able to see beyond the younger man's mask.

"Either way, I'm going in now, McGee, Kate, get back to your desks, see what you can dig up on her. DiNozzo, stay here."

Tony nodded as Kate, Gibbs and McGee left the observation room, and Tony set off the recording equipment as Gibbs entered the Interrogation room silently with a file that had been bulked up with blank paper. Tony _knew_ it wasn't going to help – she'd see straight through it.

Gibbs sat down silently, and didn't say anything. 'Ms Carson' put her head on one side, leaving her feet on the table. Gibbs opened the file and started reading it.

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_The languages in which Ms Carson says 'I'm bored' are (hopefully) in order: German, Spanish, French, Persian, Polish, Japanese, Cantonese and of course, English. :-D_

_Our assassin's complete apathy to what's happening will be explained, I assured you. Next chapter, Tony's POV._


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: Tony's POV again. And we meet Dante. :-D._

_Italics in speech marks indicate signing, except in the flash-backy bit._

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I watched nervously as Gibbs continued to try and outwait _her_. I refused to use the alias she'd given – and what the _hell_ did she mean she didn't have anything to hide? She had _everything_ to hide! But like I said, I didn't know who'd actually win the wait-out. Gibbs was stubborn, but she'd happily go weeks, months without saying anything, weeks of silence came with her job. Finally, Gibbs looked up to find her watching him.

"Well Ms Carson…" he began.

"Please Agent, call me Jay," she smiled, almost flirtatiously, and Tony shook his head. Even handcuffed and in interrogation, she still had her attitude. "Ms Carson is far too formal."

"You're here to be charged with murder."

"Hardly murder, I'd call it justice. While I need to give my statement, I don't understand why exactly I've got a Lead Agent talking to me. It's not as though I'm protesting my innocence. I killed him. I'll hold up my hands…well I would hold my hands, and scream it from the roof if you wanted me to. I'm guilty. Guiltier than sin. Your Agent practically saw me pull the trigger."

Gibbs glared at her. "Either way, you killed a man."

"And you want to know why?"

"If you'd care to enlighten me."

I saw her smirk, and knew that I was going to see her at the other end of the speech spectrum, rivaling me, except doubtless without the movie quotes, she'd never been a fan of sitting down and watching TV, she'd always been active.

"Of course," she nodded. "Understand this, I got out of main-stream hitting a good…eight years ago now. I go after the people the law can't. I'm an executioner. I kill the guilty who are still free. I've killed dictators, other assassins, murderers, rapists, child-molesters, and arms dealers. Which incidentally was his issue."

"The Admiral was an arms dealer? I find that hard to believe."

"How'd you think I got my military grade rifle Agent? He's condemning shipments, and instead of getting them destroyed, through a group of his underlings, they're coming into the hands of assassins and terrorists. Agent Gibbs, you couldn't touch him, because there was no paper-trail, according to his underlings, those weapons were _destroyed_. Check the serial number on my rifle, I'm sure you'll find that to be the case."

"How do you know this?"

"I've bought from him before, most hitters have."

"And why didn't you bring this to the law?"

"Because they'd have arrested me. Here, here's an arms dealer who's an Admiral, and I just bought a weapon offa him."

"So why couldn't he be touched?"

"Oh, he could be _touched_ Agent Gibbs, everyone can. It's very easy, you take a hand, and you put it on the person."

"You _know_ what I meant."

"Of course I do. Very well. He was good. _Too_ good. Like I said, no paper-trail. So no-one suspected. And he could read people very well. He'd have known if a cop had been sent in to make a purchase. So…to catch a criminal, you need to _be_ a criminal."

"You mean to catch a criminal you need to think like one."

"Oh no, there's some people who can only be caught by other criminals. Take the O'Reilly's for instance…"

I tensed. This could go very bad, very quickly.

"…Only a hitter could get in with them. And even then, not a hitter who's left them in the past. Mostly because I think there's only been…four, maybe five people, who've left the O'Reilly's alive. And they disappeared. We know nothing about where they are now. The Admiral trusted me because I'm a hitter, because I'd made a name for myself in the hitter community. And this time? I'd bought from him before. So, he sold to me."

Gibbs stared at her. I breathed out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding (as clichéd as that is). She'd just been making a point. And quite a valid point at that. There _were_ criminals who could avoid the law, the O'Reilly's _were_ a prime example of it. And I was one of the four/five who'd escaped the O'Reilly's, she was another, and the other was a man who'd been flirting with her – I couldn't recall his name. I knew who the fourth was, but wasn't sure of the fifth, if there _was_ a fifth.

"It makes logical sense when you think about it."

Gibbs actually seemed unnerved by her. An unusual occurrence by any stretch of the imagination.

"Who'd you kill him for?" Gibbs asked.

She chuckled, eyes widening almost imperceptibly. "Whoever said I killed him _for_ someone?"

"Your eyes just confirmed it."

"I can't tell you. Not that I don't actually _want_ to. It would help clear this up…"

"Clear this up? You _killed_ a man! And why can't you tell me?"

"Your clearance isn't high enough."

"How do you know that? Perhaps it is."

"Oh…your clearance is presidential level then? I'm really sorry, I doubt that, and it kinda has to be, for me to tell you anything. Now Agent Gibbs, I've co-operated fully. Told you everything I can without getting permission. I wish to make my phone-call now. So if you would kindly return my phone, I'll get that out of the way."

"You can make your call from my cell."

"I don't know the number off by heart. And it's a private call. I know my rights. Just get me my phone."

Gibbs glared at her, before standing up and walking out of the room. He entered the observation booth a few moments later, scowling. I looked over at him, and raised an eyebrow.

"Well boss?" I asked.

"Where's her phone?" he demanded.

"Abby's got it. Failing miserably to crack it. It's not like anything she's seen before. She made a comment about taking it apart."

"Well I hope she hasn't. Go and get it."

I nodded and headed for Abby's lab. The forensic genius was still bent over the Bluetooth headset that was apparently a phone.

"You haven't dismantled it yet have you?" I asked hopefully.

"I would've," Abby huffed. "But I can't figure out how it was assembled. And I had to run a ballistics match for Agent Samson. Which by the way, matched the bullet from the Admiral to a bullet from the rifle our assassin had. Gibbs has the report. It was a really good shot! Considering the Admiral was moving when it was taken, straight through the eye. How old is she?"

"Twenty-four," I supplied automatically, unthinkingly.

"Young for an assassin isn't she?"

"Probably not," I covered my mistake. "Face it, the earlier someone's trained, the better they'll be. She probably grew up an assassin if she's as good as you say. Which means there _won't_ be a record of her."

"But there's got to be _something_!"

"I expect there is, but I doubt we'll find it. Anyway Abs, I need the phone."

"But…"

"Gibbs' orders. Our assassin wants to make a phone call."

"Why can't she use another phone?"

"Says she doesn't know the number she wants to call."

Abby pouted, but handed me the phone, after demanded a hug in payment for it. With that, I headed back to interrogation, where Gibbs was still in the observation room, staring at her.

"What is it about her that I'm missing?" Gibbs asked me.

"How should I know? Here's her phone. You'll need to free her hands."

Gibbs took the tiny headset and scowled at it, muttering something that sounded like 'technology', and headed back into interrogation with the keys for my handcuffs. He released her wrists, and part of me was surprised that she didn't go for him, just to see how he reacted, but she didn't, merely accepted the headset with a smile, and clipped it onto her ears.

"I said a private phone call," she reminded him, clearly not going to let him stay for the conversation.

Gibbs left angrily, slamming the door, and storming into the observation room. I watched as she turned around, leant back across the table, and switched off the mics and speakers. Her hand reached up to her headset, hit a switch and she started moving around the room restlessly. Now that the interrogation was over she was showing her agitation freely. The one thing she _did _do was keep her back to the mirror. I smiled to myself, she hadn't lost her smarts then.

Still, I was curious to know who she was talking too. There were a few tricks I could try. If Gibbs wasn't in the room. I couldn't use any of my old skills with my boss in the room. Plus, I doubt she would've kicked me out.

As I watched her, she glanced over her shoulder and her eyes seemed to meet mine through the mirror, amber burning through the mirror. I recognized the look…

* * *

_She span to face me, her eyes flashing angrily, blood soaking her hair and clothes. Everything had got screwed up, and she'd ended up in a quick fast fight. Thankfully there'd been three of us – seeing as we'd had nine targets. Still, it was somewhat of a shock to see her drenched in blood like that. Pissed off that she'd got dragged into this. I had been out of the fight, not really a part of this. I pulled out my phone and dialled my wife. She picked up._

"_Hey sweetie," she murmured._

"_Hey babe, she's pissed, I'll bring 'er home with me darling."_

"_Gotcha love. See you."_

_I reached out and took my partner's hand. Our third had disappeared back into the shadows like always, leaving me and her to get back home. So that's what we did. All the while, with her eyes holding the anger at the fight._

_

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_

I shook my head to clear the memory. Right now I did _not_ need to be thinking about the past. I needed my head one-hundred percent in the game. When dealing with someone like her, I couldn't afford a slip up – not when I was sure my boss already suspected something. I silently cursed whoever had sent her. They just _had_ to screw up my life didn't they? Still, I couldn't wait to get home tonight, and see Dante. Abruptly, she nodded her head, hit the earpiece, took it out, and set it on the table, turning to lean against it with her arms, smirking at the mirror. Her hand hit the switch again.

"Done," she practically trilled. "There we go Agent Gibbs, I'm sure you'll find out what this entire mess is about, very soon."

Gibbs scowled again. She really knew how to get on people's nerves. She always had. I couldn't count the number of times I'd found her having fist-fights with other hitters, just because she'd managed to press their buttons – one thing she didn't really have were proper social skills. She could antagonize, she could flirt, but she couldn't really talk to strangers – probably because she was more used to being a thousand or more feet away, up a cliff, looking at that stranger through a scope. I was lucky, I knew how to cope with social situations, they just scared the hell out of her.

Gibbs looked over at me. "Take her down to lock up."

I nodded and slipped into the room, resecuring her wrists.

"Ooh," she practically groaned. "Should've known you'd be into this Agent."

She smirked easily at me, and I resisted the urge to cuff her over the back of the head (or better yet, let her go and get into a knockdown-drag-out fight with her with Gibbs still watching, wouldn't _that_ be fun to explain). I took her down to lock-up, thankful it was deserted, and once she was in one of the cells, leant against the bars.

"Thanks," I practically whispered.

"For what?" she asked carelessly, throwing the question over her shoulder.

"Not giving me away."

"I said I wouldn't."

"No you didn't, you said we'd see what happens."

"Tu es un idiot," her voice was fond. "I wouldn't give you away. You hurt me by leaving, yes. But…to be honest, you were still a friend. A good one at that. I couldn't just drop you in it. Do I get to see Dante?"

I thought about it, then nodded. "I might be able to swing something. I'll come visit you later."

"Thanks. Don't feel like being locked up in here alone all night."

I chuckled, and left her in peace. Or as much peace as she'd be able to get, when she was caged like this. None of us liked being cooped up. Like I said – she'd never been much one for sitting down and waiting. The chances were that she'd spend the night pacing the cell, and possibly going through forms of the few martial arts she knew.

I reached the bullpen and found Agent Gina Samson stood there talking quietly with Gibbs.

"That's it then, you've got a confession, we'll charge in the morning."

Gibbs looked up at the woman. "Something tells me it's not going to be that easy."

Gin shrugged. "Either way, we'll charge her in the morning. See you Gibbs." She turned to leave. "DiNozzo," she smirked.

"Gin," I smiled back at her. "How've you been?"

"Good enough. I'll leave you guys be. I'm already running into overtime, and the Director told me to bugger off."

Gin left, and I went over to my desk to grab my stuff. "I'm heading boss, need to relieve the baby-sitter."

Gibbs knew about Dante – it was in my file after all – but he'd never met my son.

"Fine," he stated shortly. "Be on time tomorrow, you'll need to be at the arraignment."

"Sure thing boss," I nodded and hurried down to my car, driving back to my flat. I hurried up the stairs and let myself in. My babysitter smiled at me from where she was busy putting Dante's dinner on the table. My twelve-year-old son was sat patiently there.

"Hey Lee," I smiled at the college student, signing 'Hello' to my son. "Just let me get your money and you can go."

"Thanks Tonio," she grinned. "He's been good today."

"Thanks for picking him up from school."

"I've told you, it's not a problem, I was finished for the day anyway. I've told you, anytime you need me. You know I'm just down the hall."

Lee was a godsend. She lived a few floors up from me and was willing to look after Dante when I couldn't. It also helped that she could 'speak' BSL, as well as ASL, seeing as Dante only knew BSL. Dante was deaf, had been born deaf. Seeing and his mother was British, she'd taught him BSL rather than ASL. Then again, she hadn't _known_ ASL. Lee knew because she was studying speech therapy and had learnt both for that reason. I quickly found money to pay her and handed it to her.

"I'll see you later then," she grinned, waving good-bye to Dante and leaving.

I smiled at my son and looked in the fridge to see what I could rustle up for my own dinner. There was some steak, so I pulled it out with the intention of making myself a steak sandwich. I turned to my son once I had the steak on and signed to him in LIS as opposed to BSL. I'd taught my son LIS, refusing to use just BSL. In the end, the three of us had ended up amalgamating the two sign languages into our own one which no-one else (apart from _her_) could understand due to the complete lack of consistency to when they used a sign from one language or the other.

"_How was your day?"_ I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"_Alright,"_ he responded briefly, quickly shoving more food into his mouth before continuing. _"Boring, but good. Had sports today, got to play badminton."_

"_Don't talk with your mouth full," _I teased him with a grin. _"You win?"_

"_Course I did!"_

I grinned fondly at Dante and turned back to my dinner. Ten minutes later, the steak was done and I'd made my sandwich and joined Dante at the table. While Dante did have hearing aids, we both preferred sign-language. It meant we were both on an even footing with our communication.

I frowned to myself. Could I get away with taking Dante into work to see her?

Dante tapped the table in front of me. I looked up at him.

"_Something wrong pop?" _he asked, eyes curious.

"_How much do you remember before we came here?" _I asked curiously – he'd only been two, but you never know.

"_Only a couple of things. A few memories of mum, and a couple of a woman with amber eyes."_

I smiled to myself. He remembered her then. _"Well, we're going in to my work to see someone tonight. Even if you don't remember her, she'll remember you."_

Dante seemed curious, but let it drop when I asked him to. I silently started to make the plans for the evening, including getting Dante into NCIS, and down to the holding cells. Yeah, I'd get away with it. I knew I could.

* * *

_Dante's deaf, LIS is __Lingua dei Segni Italiana, and BSL is British Sign Language, ASL is American Sign Language. I don't personally know either, so I'm writing what's signed in standard talk form._

_Please review!_


	4. Chapter 3

_"sign language"_

_

* * *

_

Jay settled back in her cell, she was bored out of her skull. Hours had passed since she'd been put her in here around eight o'clock that night. It had to be nearing one or two in the morning and it looked like she wasn't going to get to see Dante. Then again, it was a Friday. She brought her knee up to her chest and felt under the sole of her boot, reassuring herself that the concealed compartments in the heel and toe were still full. It made her relax slightly. She could defend herself if she needed to – given half a chance she could escape, and she honestly wanted to, but she knew that she shouldn't. Besides, she hadn't seen Ant in an age. Regrettably, her option of phoning and talking with any of her colleagues was out, seeing as they'd taken her phone again. She just hoped she wasn't' going to have to explain to anyone why she'd lost it.

She really didn't have anything to do except rehash the situation on the roof. Could she have escaped? Yeah, if she hadn't made the shot. And that would've meant failing to complete. Something she rarely did. She exhaled sharply. Could she have overwhelmed Ant? Possibly. Could she have evaded all the cops? Possibly not. She didn't know the answer to either of those questions. The only thing she knew was that she was in trouble. They would arraign her in the morning – and she could only hope that certain people had arrived by then to break her out.

Still, she _knew_ she'd screwed up. She shouldn't have hesitated to take him down. But she had. She briefly wondered what other people were doing, if they were as bored as she was.

* * *

A shadowed figure sat silently, tapping his fingers together. The door opened briefly to admit another figure.

"Carson got herself arrested," the first figure snarled angrily, resisting the urge to punch something..

"_What?_" another exclaimed. "How?"

"I don't know. She just called and said she'd been arrested, needed us in the NCIS Navy Yard in Washington DC before her arraignment."

"To break her out?"

"After a manner. And you're not coming."

"Why not? It's Carson! C'mon! You can't stop me! You need me!"

"I can stop you, and I'll take Elis. He's less likely to cause an international incident. You'll just put a gun to the head of the NCIS Director and deliver an ultimatum."

"No I wouldn't! And besides, it wouldn't be international, I'm an American citizen! How would that make it an international incident?"

"Because you're officially dead, and your current ID is British. I'm also taking Nem."

"Why? Where's the logic in that, Nem instead of me? Nem's more antagonistic than I am!"

"I think I should have a legal slant to this. So Elis, Nem and me will be a sufficient team. You will be on American soil though, in case we _do_ need you."

"Yays!"

"I thought we'd got rid of the sarcasm when I sent Carson on assignment. She completed by the way. They arraigning her for murder."

"We _really_ need to get her out then…"

* * *

To be honest, Jay could practically imagine the conversation her possible rescuers. Her partner would be demanding he be allowed to come, the top-man refusing point blank and naming the team he _would_ be taking. (If she had to guess, Elis and Nem, Elis for his easy, calm nature, and Nem because of the law degree, Jay's own partner was completely unsuitable, far too volatile). Her head fell back, she cursed the concrete cell depriving her of the chance to count bricks and she started counting seconds.

Three thousand, six hundred and seventy three seconds later, (one hour, one minute and thirteen seconds, if she wasn't much mistaken), the door to the holding cells opened. She looked over and saw Ant entering, closely followed by a young boy of about twelve. She smiled, it had to be Dante, he had Ant's rich tan, and his mother's sharp grey eyes and uncontrollable hair. Jay rose to her feet and waved.

"_Hey boys," _she signed. "_My D, you've grown."_

"_I would've,"_ Dante pointed out. _"It's been ten years."_

"_That is a rather long time, although the only way your father's grown is round. You grew up."_

Dante giggled silently as Jay made comical gestures of up and round. Tony mock-glared at Jay, struggling not to laugh himself.

"_I'll have you know I'm in peak health," _he retorted sharply.

Jay smirked. _"Well, you're still wider than I remember."_

"_More muscle."_

"_Around your stomach?"_

Dante watched as his father and this woman he didn't quite remember (except for her amber eyes) traded jibes in sign. She moved over to the bars and held out her arms. Tony moved over and hugged her, Dante followed his father's example. She held him out to arms length, then moved back so that she could sign.

"_You look so much like your mother…"_

Dante and Tony stared at her as she reached out and gently caressed Dante's face. Abruptly, she span away and Tony could see her eyes closing and her biting her lower lip, obviously fighting not to cry.

"_Sorry D, need to talk to her quickly," _Tony quickly signed to his son.

"_That's fine. She seems upset."_

Dante was strangely perceptive for his age, but for that, Tony was thankful.

"Hey," he called quietly. "Shan, did you ever mourn her?"

"Don't call me that," Jay bit out. "For all our sakes, call me Jay, or Ms Carson if you must. But not Shan. I'm not her anymore. And no, I never got a chance. Still, he looks like her. Can I hug him properly?"

"Sorry, I don't have the key for the cells."

"Drat."

Still, she hadn't turned around. She didn't want him to see how badly this was all affecting her. She'd been cooped up since she'd shot the Admiral, and it was starting to take its toll, she'd never been cooped up this long before, not without a chance to fight at the least. Tony though, seemed to actually know.

"You alright?" he asked quietly.

"Fine," she snarled angrily.

"You're not. You've been cooped up in here too long."

"No shit Sherlock!"

"That's clichéd."

"_We're being rude," _Jay signed abruptly, spinning around, her eyes livid, but with a sheen that showed she was still close to tears. Jay sat down cross-legged near the front of her cell, and gestured for Dante to join her. _"Come on D, tell me about yourself."_

Tony watched as Jay and his son were drew into an animated conversation, made more animated by the fact that they were literally talking with their hands. He smiled fondly at them. He remembered when Jay used to do this with his wife, Indy. The two of them would sit up for hours talking with their hands, the only ones who knew what they were saying (it was in the years before Tony had learnt BSL, he'd only learnt after Dante's birth).

Jay glanced briefly up at him and smiled gently, before returning her attention to the conversation and asking Dante to repeat his last sentence. Tony watched their conversation (they seemed to be discussing motor sports, something both seemed to love, although Tony couldn't remember her ever mentioning motor sports in the past).

He found himself nervously glancing up at the security camera in one corner, hoping that Abby wasn't doing her 'watch the security feeds while running tests' thing. That could make things go very bad. Very, very bad. It would be rather difficult to explain... Why he was here, at three/four in the morning, with his son, talking to a murderer? He knew the answer, but it wasn't one he could actually answer, not to the standard Gibbs would want him to.

* * *

Abby was bored. She was waiting for her equipment to give her results. The strange phone-headset was stubbornly refusing her and she was annoyed at it, so had left it behind. Now she was staring at her computer, trying to resist the urge to hack into the- Damn it all to hell, she was _bored_ and she wanted to take another look at the assassin, before going back to the phone. She quickly brought the security feeds for the holding cells up and was startled to find Tony in the holding cells, the assassin and a young boy were sat on the floor, clearly conversing with each other in some form of sign-language, it wasn't ASL, she recognized some of it, but not much. Australian sign perhaps?

Still, what was Tony doing with a young boy, in the holding cells, with a murderer?

Abby quickly pulled up Tony's file, trying to remember what it was he'd told her when he'd had to cancel a night-out they'd planned. And there it was, plain as day. Tony had a twelve-year-old-son, who had to be the boy down in the cells. There was one thing in her mind that kept repeating: call Gibbs, he needs to know. Her hand hovered over her phone. But surely Tony had a good reason? No, there was no reason good enough to take a child to visit a murderer.

She dialled Gibbs' number.

"Gibbs?" he answered curtly.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" she exclaimed. "There'ssomethinguphere! Tony'!"!"

"Abs, slow down! Say that again, I didn't catch a word except 'something' and 'Tony'."

"There's something wrong. Tony's in the cells with his son and the assassin! You need to get here right now! You said your gut's been going all day! This is gotta be what it's been going on about! Please come! Hurry!"

"I'm on my way."

Gibbs hung up and Abby continued to stare at the screen, slightly scared. This wasn't right, Tony wouldn't put his son in harm's way, and he couldn't know the assassin…could he? Abby scrolled through his record. No, he couldn't know her. His record was complete, there was nothing faked, everything was verifiable. She'd run the background check for Gibbs after all, and she hadn't been able to find anything fake about it. Had she missed something? No she couldn't have!

Gibbs walked into her lab and swept her into a tight hug. "What is it Abs?"

Abby pointed at the screen mutely, words for once failing her. Gibbs had been somewhat delayed, despite hearing how distressed Abby had been. He looked at the screen and found Tony sat on the floor, against the wall, a young boy asleep with his head on Tony's stretched out legs, and Ms Jay Carson sat cross-legged facing them, Tony and Carson communicating with their hands.

"Tony doesn't know sign."

"Apparently he does!" Abby found her voice. "At least some form of sign, it's not ASL, I can't understand a word they're saying…signing. I'm scared! They seem to know each other!"

"Damnit!" Gibbs cursed, he knew he should've listened to his gut. "I knew something was up! I _knew_ it!"

"What're we going to do?"

"I'm going down to confront Tony!"

"What about the boy?"

"You come with me. I think we need to get Dante away from Tony."

* * *

The Lear jet came to a halt and the door opened, allowing four people to exit. Three men and a woman. The woman and two of the men were dressed in smart, well-tailored designer suits, the woman in a skirt. The other man was in jeans, Converse and a leather jacket. The casually dressed man mock-saluted and slunk off, away from the other three.

"So where to?" the woman inquired easily, turning to the seeming leader.

"We all know where," the leader replied, holding the door of the Beamer that was waiting for them. The woman slipped in.

"I'll make the call on the drive."

The other man slipped into the back seat as the leader walked round to the driver's side.

* * *

Tony had started ignoring the camera. _"It's going to take a while to get used to not calling you by your real name."_

'Jay' smiled at him. _"It's not my real name anymore. The name I __**asked**__ you to call me is my real name."_

"_What happened to you? What changed you?"_

"_It's a long story, you sure you've got time?"_

Tony looked down at the sleeping form of Dante, he'd suddenly flaked a few minutes ago and Tony had had him lay down, and covered him with his jacket, stretching out his legs for use as a pillow. _"I think I have plenty of time, I don't think he's going to wake up anytime soon."_

"_Thanks for coming back. I was going stir-crazy in here!"_

"_You going to tell me what changed you?"_

"_I failed to complete."_

"_What? __**You**__? What happened?"_

"_I was given the assignment, all was going well, you remember the Villa Cupola in the Western Excelsior?"_

"_Yeah, nice place."_

"_The mark was in that. I was fine, got in fine, got to the mark, fine, had the gun point at the mark's chest. Then things went to hell…"_

"_How did things go to hell?"_

"_An old colleague was working for the mark. Came after me. Strange how it's always old colleagues who mean I either fail to complete, get arrested, or both."_

"_But clearly you weren't arrested, otherwise you wouldn't be here."_

"_I was sort of arrested. Here's what…"_

The door burst open and Tony almost jerked to his feet, waking Dante up, while Jay span to her feet, going as if to draw a gun.

* * *

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" Gibbs roared. Dante blinked sleepily at the irate agent, noticed the furious look and hid behind Tony's back.

Abby signed at Dante in ASL. He looked blankly at her. Tony curled a protective arm around his son. Jay left off her defensive stature to quickly sign to Dante.

"_It's alright, she doesn't realize you don't know ASL."_

"DiNozzo," Gibbs snarled. "Send your son over here, _now_."

"Now that's just asking too much," Tony growled back, tightening his grip ever so slightly, but not so that it was painful. "Would you send Kelly to someone who was furious? Especially if she couldn't _understand what the hell they were on about_!"

Gibbs seemed to swell and Tony flinched back slightly. That had been a stupid thing to say.

"How _dare_ you bring Kelly into this!" he roared and Dante had his eyes fixed on Jay who continued to sign reassuringly at him, seeing as the three of them could sign, Dante had forgone his hearing-aids, so Jay also translated (although by this point, she was sure Dante could hear and understand Gibbs).

"Because you're scaring my son!"

"You're the one who brought him to see an assassin!"

"That's _my_ choice! Not yours!"

The yelling match was getting worse, and Tony had made it to his feet. Gibbs started stalking towards him, fists clenched. Abby screamed as Jay reached out and wrapped her arm around Gibbs' neck, anchoring her arm with the other hand on her wrist, leaping slightly to wrap her legs around Gibbs' waist (very thankful for her slim build).

Tony turned to tell Jay to put him down when a new voice cut into the fray.

"Why am I not surprised to find you trying to kill someone Carson?" the voice announced the arrival of a slim, vulture like man, who was stood just inside the door.

"Boss…" Jay forced out.

* * *

_A/N: Please note, I'm fudging the details for how Jay's boss got there. A Lear jet wouldn't make the distance, but the time is about right, possibly too long. And yes. Tony did take his son in to see Jay/Shan at three in the morning, due to wanting to try and avoid Gibbs. Abby called Gibbs and hour and a half-ish later, and Jay's Boss turned up at five-ish. The time-line is a tad messed up, and I know, you probably __**wouldn't**__ take your son to see a murderer you're pretending not to know at three am, but… Either way, this is a work of fiction :-D. Please read and review. ...That's idiotic, asking you to read and review...if you're reading this you've already read...so please review? (Look, another fast update! I'm saving up so that come a week Thursday when I drop off the face of the earth for a week you won't kill me too much...)_


	5. Chapter 4

"_sign language"_

_'thoughts' (Tony's in this seeing as it's first person :-D)_

_

* * *

_

Apart from 'Jay' we were all staring at the man in shock. I pulled Dante closer to me. If this went bad, I had no intention of letting my son get endangered.

"Jay," the man drawled. "Put him down."

"Not until I know he's not going to go for one of his subordinates," Jay retorted sharply.

"Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs snarled. "Fine. I won't attack DiNozzo."

Shan- Jay released her grip, easily returning to her feet. "You here to break me out boss?"

"Give the gun back," Sh-Jay's boss stated. I noted he avoided the question.

We now realized that she'd hooked Gibbs' Sig when she'd settled back down. Jay shrugged and held the gun out.

"Agent Gibbs, have Carson released, we'll talk to all of you up in the bullpen."

"I can't do that," Gibbs growled out as he snatched the gun off Jay. I hugged Dante closer and my son curled into my side. Jay shot him a worried look.

The man took a step towards Gibbs, and I tensed, ready to go to the defence of my boss, regardless of the fact that he would probably fire me shortly. That man was dangerous.

"You can," he stated. "And you _will_. I will get permission from your President if I _have_ to. Now let her go, and then we will all talk in the bullpen. Your team is already on the way in, apart from Agent DiNozzo here. Who, obviously, is already here. Now, release Carson, and come up to the bullpen. _Now_."

"Yes sir," Gibbs gritted out. It startled me slightly that he sounded a little bit like a petulant child.

"DiNozzo, Miss Sciuto," the man smiled genially, and I could see that Abby was having trouble not instantly liking this man, despite the fact (or perhaps because of the fact) that he'd just ordered Gibbs around in a manner even the Director wouldn't dare. "If you'd kindly come up stairs? Agent DiNozzo, please explain to your son that everything is fine, and find him somewhere to sleep while we talk. A child should not be up at this time on a Saturday morning."

I winced, and noted that he was calling me on having my son up at this time. He went to exit the holding cells, pausing with the door open, turning back slightly.

"Oh, and Agent Gibbs? Don't call me 'sir' unless you want Carson there to go medieval on your ass. She disapproves of the word for some reason."

With that he was gone. Me and Abby shared a look, before I put my arm around Dante's shoulders and led him out of the room, followed by Abby.

"Oh, and Abby?" I turned to her briefly. "I would never endanger my son, just so you know."

"What?" Abby asked, slightly shocked.

"I figure that's why you called Gibbs?"

"Well you have to admit, for you to be down there talking with an assassin, something hinky has to be going on!"

"There is Abs, and you'll find out soon I'm sure. But I'd never put Dante in danger."

Abby went bright red. "I think I just sort of panicked at the whole Tony with son talking to assassin thing."

I put my spare arm around Abby. "Well, next time, just come and talk to me. She was still in the cell. Oh, and Dante only knows BSL and LIS. I never got around to teaching him ASL. He didn't pick up his hearing aids, so I'm going to talk to him quickly, can we put him on the futon in your office?"

"Sure," Abby nodded.

I turned to Dante. _"Everything's okay. The woman here is Abby, the grey haired man who burst in was my boss Gibbs, the other man was Jay's boss although I don't know his name. You alright?"_

Dante nodded. _"Fine, just a bit shaken."_

"_Alright, Abby's said you can sleep on the futon in her office. That alright?"_

Dante nodded again, and we made a quick pit-stop at Abby's lab to let Dante lie down, and Abby gave Dante her mobile, showing him where my name was stored and I told him to text me if he had a problem. When we made it up to the bullpen, Jay and Gibbs were just entering it. The man who'd come down to the holding cells was stood with a smartly dressed woman and another man. Jay's face split into a wide grin.

"Father!" she exclaimed crossing over to the man and taking his hands. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"Her father?" Gibbs asked Abby.

I looked over at him with a look of barely contained disdain (a look that showed that I was starting to lose my hold on the Anthony DiNozzo mask). "He's a Catholic priest, boss. Check the collar." The collar of his suit, instead of holding a tie, held a strip of white cloth - a collarino shirt if I wasn't mistaken.

"Isn't that a bit..."

"My child," the man replied in an Irish accent (not the same as Jay's, more like the accent everyone will do when doing an Irish accent), cutting off the rest of Gibb's sentence resting a hand briefly on Jay's bowed head. "Have you anything to confess?"

"Isn't confession a private thing?" Gibbs asked me as Jay considered the question.

I shrugged. "Guess it depends on the person and the priest." At the same time I was busy thinking: _'What the hell is Shan...**Jay** going to do? Surely she's not going to confess to the murder? Or is she?'_

"One count of murder," Jay responded brightly.

_'I guess she is,' _I mused a tad surprised.

"One count of stealing a weapon, thinking unpure thoughts about Ant over there..."

_'Why does she insist on calling me that?'_

"And his boss, and the Goth…oh, and lying. Not under oath, but I did lie…"

"Hm…" the priest frowned as he considered this. Surely this was going to be a serious penance - she'd been lusting after Abby for crying out loud. "The weapon was returned, the unpure thoughts are classic you, and you lie as par for the course my dear. You know the penance for the murder."

"Thank you Father."

Gibbs blinked at that as Jay pulled the priest into a hug.

"That is not normal," he stated finally.

"When he's dealing with thirty, forty killers everyday, other sins start to lose their significance," the woman smiled frostily and I decided that I didn't like her. She was too…too cold. Even Jay, who was an unrepentant killer, was still warm and human, for lack of a better word.

"Of course," I retorted, just as frostily, deciding to get into a staring match with her. It took less than three minutes for me to look away as the woman turned to Jay.

"You had to get yourself arrested didn't you Carson?"

"Hey! Of all our assassins, I _know_ I have the lowest arrest rate!"

"Perhaps, but you have just outstripped them all by being arrested for doing your job," the woman was English – as in Christopher Lee villain English. Well-spoken, posh accent, and perfect pose.

"Yeah, be thankful, I didn't get arrested for drunk and disorderly, taking illegal substances, causing a public disturbance, unsanctioned GBH, throwing up on a _cop_ and any number of other random acts."

"You got arrested for _murder _Carson. _That_ is a little harder to get rid of."

I stayed quiet as I saw Gibbs trying not to explode at these people. Thankfully, that was the point at which Kate and McGee came into the bullpen, stopped, blinked at Jay who made bug eyes at them and shrugged before turning and whispering something to the priest who chuckled.

"Agents Todd and McGee," the first man (who'd stayed silent during the latest bout of banter, with a faint smirk on his lips) stated, inclining his head. "Very good, we're all here. Your Director's already been briefed."

"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed, suddenly noticing the split lip on the boss' face. "What happened?"

"Got attacked by some punk with a three comma tattoo," Gibbs scowled. "Guy had _some_ training but ran off when I fought back."

Jay's eyes had widened and I watched as she searched my desk for paper and pen. Having found both she hurriedly sketched an image on it. She held it out to Gibbs. "Was this it?"

Gibbs looked at it and nodded. "Except it was red around black commas."

Jay exhaled sharply and handed it to her boss. "It's a mitsudomoe. I know a guy who has this tattoos. At least I _knew_ a guy with that tattoo. I thought he was dead. This's not good."

The woman coughed politely. "You will excuse me, now is not the time for that, we need to take care of the legal side of things."

Well that explained the evil vibes I was getting off the woman – she was a lawyer. She set five contracts down on the desks. I glanced at one and noted the top stated that it was a contract of silence, an official document that require silence on the matters that were about to be discussed. I skimmed through it and then shook my head - there was a clause stating that we had to divulge any information they asked us for _when_ they asked for it for, security purposes (the bloody people just wanted to be able to get all the information they wanted out of us). Gibbs already knew something hinky (to steal Abby's word) was going on with me, but I wasn't going to confirm it completely, and I had no intention of telling Kate or McGee who I used to be. It would rob me of the closest thing I'd ever had to a family, I'd probably end up in prison, and Dante would end up in the system seeing as the person I had named as his guardian should anything happen to me had apparently (at the very least) disappeared, or (at the worst) was in fact officially dead.

"I can't sign this," I told the lawyer, handing it back to her. Jay snagged the contract and started to read through it.

"Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she retorted sharply. I saw Jay note the paragraph I was having problems with and she nodded to herself.

"Nem," she called for the woman's attention. "He's cool. Doesn't need to sign one of these."

"You'll forgive me, I know procedure. I am not going to listen to you Carson. Not about this."

"Hades?"

Her boss, clearly Hades looked over at Jay who was gesturing for him to move over to her. She took a step to meet him, and leant in to whisper something to him. Hades nodded and then looked over at Nem.

"Jay's words right," he informed the lawyer. "He's cool, he signed an earlier silence contract."

I opened my mouth to object and thought better of it as the lawyer did the evil-villain equivalent of groaning and her lips tightened.

"Sometime in…Peoria I believe… And it's not like she's saying the others don't have to, just that Agent DiNozzo doesn't have to."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes at me and I shut my mouth and shrugged.

"It didn't come up in my NCIS application," I stated simply. "…Oh wait, I didn't actually apply, I was actively recruited."

There was a little smugness to my words. Then again, Kate had been actively recruited to.

"This is beside the point," Nem responded coolly. "Agents Gibbs, Todd, McGee and Miss Sciuto please sign these documents, or leave."

"I'm not signing anything before I get an explanation," Gibbs told her sharply. She smiled serenely at him.

"The door is behind you then Agent Gibbs. There are lives that count on the utmost secrecy in this matter. Oh, and we will not be remaining in the Navy Yard, these wall have ears, we shall be adjourning to more comfortable, _secure_, surroundings. Agent DiNozzo, you son is both perfectly welcome, and will be perfectly safe, we have several people versed in BSL and LIS."

"How do you know that my son is one: deaf, two: doesn't know ASL?" I asked her, slightly scared by her knowledge.

"I know everything, Agent DiNozzo. It's my job."

With that disconcerting thought in their minds, Abby, Kate and McGee all scanned through the documents and signed them quickly, with Gibbs finally signing a few moments later. Nem smiled.

"Very good, follow us and we'll take you to where this meeting will be conducted."

* * *

Half an hour later we entered a non-descript, high-rise building with those mirrored windows like in interrogation. The man on the desk looked up and smiled.

"Hello Hades," he nodded. "Top floor conference room. Nemesis, feel free to sweep for bugs."

"Oh I will," Nemesis nodded. "Believe me I will."

We followed Nemesis, Hades, the priest and Jay into the lift. Jay instantly situated herself right next to the wall in the corner and I joined her, while Dante had attached himself to Abby, I knew _why_ Jay was putting herself there. After all, the lift was full. We exited onto the top floor and a slim woman met us, smiling down at Dante. She lifted her hand to sign at him.

"_Hello," _her smile didn't waver as Dante moved closer to me. _"I'm Tara, why don't we go find something on TV while these guys talk about boring stuff?"_

I smiled encouragingly at Dante, nodded and pushed him towards her. I noticed she didn't try to touch him and simply lead him through to what appeared to be an office.

"We'll use the board room," Nemesis stated, leading us into that room. I took a seat part way between the two ends, Gibbs took the seat at the end near the door, Hades at the other end. The priest sat down on one side of Hades and Nemesis pulled a chair back towards the wall. Jay turned her chair around and scooted it back a bit, trying to place her back closer to a wall. Kate sat down to one side of Gibbs, McGee on the other, with Abby sitting between me and McGee.

"Alright," Hades smiled. "I suppose introductions are in order, we know who you are, and you're at a disadvantage. I'm Hades, head of Sector Three, this is Father Elis, our priest, and Nemesis, the head of our legal department."

"Head of Sector Three of _what_ exactly?" Gibbs demanded. "Which organization do you work for?"

I watched McGee pour himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. I almost shook my head, I wouldn't have been risking it.

"Changeling," Jay stated calmly, cutting off both Nemesis and Hades.

McGee choked.

* * *

_(3__rd__ person)_

"You failed to complete?" the man mused quietly. "So let me get this straight. An assassin that we inexplicably do not know has been arrested for the murder of an Admiral by NCIS, and you failed to kill the Lead Agent on the case?"

"No," the man with the mitsudomoe tattoo shook his head. "I failed to kill the man who conducted the interrogation. The Lead Agent is in fact a Gina Samson, the man I attacked is an ex-Gunnery Sergeant, he fought back."

"You should be able to fight back. You should be able to fight back harder. If all else fails you should've been able to shoot him."

The man bowed his head. "I felt it would serve our purpose better for him to still be alive."

"May I remind you, that our _purpose _is to find my daughter, bring her back to our side, and failing that, render her unable to identify any of us. We need to silence her."

If the would-be-assassin was disturbed by the man in front of him suggesting 'silencing' his daughter, knowing the man's preferred method of 'silencing' someone, he didn't show it. Instead he replied.

"He has been bugged sir."

"Bugged?" a raised eyebrow from the first man.

"Yes, I placed a listening device on his collar. We can listen to everything he listens to."

The first man smiled. "Excellent." It wasn't a nice smile. "You are dismissed, report back to me. Oh, and find out who the _hell_ that assassin is!"

The man with the mitsudomoe tattoo nodded, bowed and left.

* * *

_A/N: Meet the most laid-back priest in the world. 'Elis' is the only Greek city state that erected a temple to Hades (and I'd assume Persephone as well seeing as they shared a temple...) in one of their provinces. As Nem said - when you're dealing with people confessing murder(s) every few weeks, your concept of sin get's slightly skewed, hence Elis' odd response to Jay's confession. More oddities about Father Elis will appear, just because I like him. :-D. The mitsudomoe is a Japanese symbol, which was in fact adopted by the samurai as their symbol. If you search 'tomoe' on the web/wikipedia, you will get pictures, the first one (the red and white/cream one) is the tattoo, except with black instead of the white/cream. The information about clerical wear also came off wikipedia._

_Please complete one of the following sentences: _

_I like this chapter because…_

_The last bit is… (suggestions: disturbing, confusing, bizarre, that's how I find it…)_

_:-p._

_Anyway, I managed to get another chapter up! :-D._

_Next time on/in Past Indiscretions: McGee choking is explained, Changeling is explained, Jay is explained (after a manner), Kate confesses to Father Elis in desperation and get's a very odd response, the man with the tattoo is semi-explained, and the other man remains a mystery. Anything else I should cover? :-P_


	6. Chapter 5

_A/N: Kate doesn't actually confess in this one, but she will, just because I want to see how she'll respond... Just about everything else is covered. :-D

* * *

_

Everyone found themselves staring at McGee as he tried to clear his throat.

"You guys are _Changeling_?" he exclaimed finally.

"That's what I said," Jay smirked.

"Oh man! That's just too weird."

"You know who we are?" Hades asked curiously.

"Yeah, I hacked your system once when you had information I needed, you offered me a job."

"That true, Nem?"

Nemesis was frowning, then a smile crossed her lips. "Six years ago right? Timothy McGee, MIT graduate, applied to NCIS, got accepted. I'm impressed, why did you turn us down?"

"I didn't want to leave America," Tim retorted sharply.

"I'm sure we would have offered you an America based job, as you can see, we have offices."

"I just turned it down, it's not really my thing."

"I see…"

Jay was absently sketching on a piece of paper again. "I just don't get it! How could I have been so wrong about him being dead!"

"Who?" Tony asked curiously.

"Mistsudomoe dude, Samurai! You remember, likes hand to hand, ninja weapons rather than guns."

"Oh…I see…"

"Should've known…O'Reilly always had a thing for him."

Nemesis got to her feet at this point, she'd been staring at her palm pilot until now.. "Well, as brilliant as this conversation is, I need to briefly interrupt it." She crossed over to Gibbs. "You didn't fix you collar properly." She proceeded to adjust it, and when she pulled away she held up a small black object. "As I thought, Jay?"

"Toss it here," Jay held up her hand.

Nemesis threw the device to Jay who held it to her mouth.

"Nice try, not good enough though, you never could outwit us, give O'Reilly a message, stop screwing with shit he doesn't understand."

She dropped the device and brought her other hand round putting a knife through the centre of the device. Gibbs stared. When had she got the weapon? Nemesis proceeded to stand on a chair and remove another device from the roof, somehow managing to remain elegant and dignified.

"Did you have to stab the table?" she inquired calmly, deactivating the device in her hands.

"Meh, it's Sector Four, I don't like Sector Four, loada ponces and idiots who don't understand me or my colleagues."

"How could they?"

Jay shrugged and Nemesis turned to her seat.

"You can continue now Hades, we've given them the information we wanted to."

Hades exhaled sharply. "I wish you'd warn me when you are going doing that. It's bloody frustrating."

"It's supposed to be. Now continue the briefing."

Hades rolled his eyes and turned back to stare down the table at Gibbs. "Changeling is a top secret organization, known only to the upper echelons of governments. Oh that reminds me, Nem, I need a video conference with HQ. I should probably update the others properly."

"I'll set it up," Nemesis nodded.

"Oh, and make sure it's charged to Sector Four, it's international, I don't want that cutting my budget down. I already have to send my people just about everywhere on budget."

Nemesis chuckled.

"What do you mean it's an international call?" Gibbs asked.

Hades looked at him, a little surprised at the question. "I would've thought a smart man like you would've been able to guess from the accents that we're not an American based company."

"British?"

"Not British either, we're an international organization based in Switzerland. But we have bases like this one all over the world. We have one major difference to most organizations of our kind. We recruit from all walks of life, even criminal ones. We have many ex-assassins, thieves, con-people. We use them to try and bring down criminal organizations in all countries. We also use the assassins to dispense justice where no-one else can get involved. And because our criminals are all working under either assumed names or their original names, no-one can really find them."

"Which explains why we couldn't find anything on Ms Carson here," Kate nodded as though that made perfect sense to her.

Jay bowed slightly in her seat. "Indeed. My own name…would put too many people in danger."

"Damn right it would," Tony muttered under his breath, the dagger Jay had been toying with embedded itself in the table in front of him. He looked over at her and she smiled sweetly.

'Then don't keep slipping up,' her eyes stated calmly enough.

Gibbs, despite the fact that he was currently mad at his Senior Agent, and knew something was going on, leapt to Tony's defence.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Keep her under control!"

"I am under control," Jay's eyes hardened. "I didn't put it through his head. Which, I could've. My aim isn't limited to a rifle. I'm good with all _sorts_ of weapons."

And there was the classic Jay, deadly serious, double entendre. She meant it one way, but wasn't about to pass up the chance to make a sexual innuendo to make people blush. The dark smile on her lips confirmed Tony's suspicions on that one.

"Can I smoke Nem?"

"These aren't my offices," the lawyer shrugged. "Sector Four, you know that."

To their surprise, Father Elis pushed a packet of cigarettes and a lighter over to Jay who opened the cigarettes and lit up without saying a word.

"Where was I?" Hades mused quietly as he watched his second-in-command with a slightly amused look in his eyes.

He'd realized almost immediately that she was purposefully trying to keep the NCIS team off-balance, while at the same time goad Agent DiNozzo into something, although he couldn't be sure what exactly. Then again, after what she'd told him about Agent DiNozzo's past…

"Oh yes, Changeling. As I've said, we take out people that the regular law can't. We've removed dictators from power, and killed serial killers that no-one realized existed. We've taken down drug rings, human trafficking rings, smuggling rings. We've taken out gangs, corrupt politicians, judges, LEOs…"

It surprised Kate to hear Hades use the term 'LEO'. For some reason, it just didn't fit with what she'd surmised from the man. (Then again, hadn't earlier proved that she'd completely mis-profiled DiNozzo of all people?).

* * *

_(Earlier that morning)_

"_Agent DiNozzo, your son is both perfectly welcome," Nemesis stated coolly, "and will be perfectly safe, we have several people versed in BSL and LIS."_

"_How do you know that?" Tony asked her._

"_I know everything, Agent DiNozzo. It's my job."_

_With that disconcerting thought in their minds, Abby, Kate and McGee all scanned through the documents and signed them quickly, with Gibbs finally signing a few moments later. Nemesis smiled._

"_Very good, follow us and we'll take you to where this meeting will be conducted."_

"_I need to go and get Dante," Tony stated, Kate shared a look with McGee._

_The information Nemesis had given them – that Tony had a son – was startling to say the least, for Kate and McGee that ist. Tony quickly headed down to Abby's lab, Abby at his side._

"_Since when did __**DiNozzo**__ of all people have a son?" Kate demanded of Gibbs. It wasn't, however, Gibbs who answered her._

"_Since thirteen years ago when he knocked his wife up," Jay shrugged, her voice cutting._

"_Jay!" her boss snapped furiously at her. "Don't be so crude!"_

"_S'the truth boss."_

_McGee was having trouble making his tongue work. "But…But…it's Tony!"_

"_No, it's the Prince of Liechtenstein."_

_Kate blinked at the woman they'd had in lock-up for killing someone mere hours before. She was being surprisingly sarcastic and antagonistic for someone any member of NCIS would happily shoot. Hades rolled his eyes and clipped Jay around the ears. She looked at him and pouted._

"_Still, Tony isn't exactly responsible," Kate tried again. Gibbs looked at her._

"_He's looked after Dante as best he could as a single parent in law enforcement," their boss stated firmly. "He is a __**good**__ father. And if either of you give him grief about this, I will kick your asses. Just so you know, Dante's deaf. So if he starts to freak out, let Tony handle it. And don't crowd him. Got it?"_

"_Got it boss," McGee and Kate nodded. They shared a look behind Gibbs' back. This wasn't right, but they obviously weren't going to be given a chance to discuss it. But they'd manage it at some point.

* * *

_

(Present)

Hades smiled coolly down the table. "You name it, we've done it, or been involved in it. I'm head of Sector Three, which means I liaise with people like Jay here."

"Don't you mean you're in control of them?" Kate narrowed her eyes, and was surprised when Father Elis burst out laughing as Jay turned a sceptical look on the ex-Secret Service agent as if to say 'and you call yourself a profiler'. (It wouldn't surprise Kate if Jay knew her speciality was profiling, and if she didn't, Nemesis certainly would, and Nemesis was giving her a look that matched Jay's).

Finally Father Elis stopped laughing. "My dear Agent Todd, do you really think anyone could control Jay and her colleagues? They work with us voluntarily, mostly because they can't go back to their old lives. But if we tried to actually control them, then God help the poor soul who's in their way."

"Father," Hades chided with a slight grin. "I think we've given them enough to think about for now. Nemesis, if you could go arrange that conference call, and also coffee and some breakfast for us all. Jay?"

"Another pack of fags would be good," Jay held up the pack she'd been chain-smoking unconsciously.

"Go catch forty winks, child," Father Elis stated kindly. "You look like you could use it."

"I'm fine. Just need coffee. No time to sleep."

"Jay," Hades stated.

"I'm fine boss!"

"Carson."

"No, I'm fine."

"_Persephone_!" Hades growled the word out and to their surprise, Jay's shoulders slumped and she headed for the door.

"I'll go catch a nap then boss."

"What was that about?" Kate asked Gibbs. Father Elis surprised them all by appearing at her shoulder and replying.

"Jay has a habit of not sleeping, and if I'm not mistaken she hasn't slept since she left our home base. She's on at least forty-eight hours of no sleep, quite probably seventy-two."

"She looks so…"

"Normal? Unbothered? Awake? You didn't notice the bags under her eyes then? Then again, they're a perfectly normal feature of Jay, she's an assassin Agent Todd, she can stay awake for a long time without needing much more than a forty minute powernap every so often. She practically lives on coffee, cigarettes and high-sugar, high-carb foods, a dreadful habit, but it keeps her alive. We can just hope she doesn't crash out before the end of this op."

No-one said anything, but everyone had drawn the link between Tony's habit of living on high-sugar, high-carb food, he drank nearly as much coffee as Gibbs, but they'd never seen him smoke. They also knew that he was invariably in the office late at night when they were on a case, seeming to need very little sleep. Father Elis smiled politely and excused himself, Tony excused himself as well, following the priest.

"Anyone else realize, that apart from the cigarettes, Father Elis just practically described Tony to us?" Kate asked after a long moment's silence.

Gibbs walked over to where Hades was massaging his forehead. Hades looked up at Gibbs.

"Well Special Agent Gibbs," Hades looked up. "How's all this sounding?"

"A little unbelievable, but you seem honest enough. My gut's not going off."

"Your gut? Ah…what Jay would call instinct? What tells you when something's wrong? I see. You had a question I expect?"

"I was just wondering why you're breaking a killer out of jail?"

"We're not breaking her out. She was following orders. If anyone's guilty, it's the people who gave the order."

"Your secretary seems a bit…odd, likes to keep you on edge does she?"

"Nem? She's not my secretary."

"Then who is she?"

Hades shrugged. "She's the head of Internal Affairs."

Gibbs blinked at him.

* * *

"Father Elis!" Tony called as he jogged to catch up with the priest. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Anthony DiNozzo."

"Oh, I know who you are," Father Elis replied jovially. "How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I could confess to you? If what Shan- Jay's said about you is true, I can tell you just about anything?"

"Indeed, and the confessional seal will still be held no matter what. Why don't we go find a private room to talk in son?"

"Yes please."

Nemesis watched silently as Father Elis and Tony walked away from where she'd been stood in the door to an office she'd been using to set up the conference call. So Tony knew Jay as 'Shan'. That certainly explained why he'd been reticent to sign the silence contract, and why Jay had pretty much vouched for him – seeing as it was protocol to sign the agreement, even if the person had already signed an earlier one. She could only wonder what part Tony had played in Jay's past. Whatever it was, it was large enough that she trusted this man – Nemesis could see it, there were very few people who Jay would vouch for, and at least three of them were dead, and another was floating around DC somewhere.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Jay returned to the conference room and poured herself a cup of coffee from the fresh pot that had just been brought in. She drained it, and poured another cup, pulling out a cigarette with her other hand and lighting it up as she headed back to her seat.

"Sleep well?" Hades inquired politely as she turned the chair around again, this time to slump in it with her feet on the table.

"Not really," Jay responded. "But I'm not about to collapse on you quite yet. How's things going?"

"I'm about to explain why the O'Reilly's surfacing and going after Gibbs is a bad thing."

"We sure he was after Gibbs?"

"Why would you think otherwise?"

"The O'Reilly's don't know who 'Jay Carson' is, and there'll have been reports of the fact the assassin was arrested, they'll know the name. So O'Reilly will be trying to figure out who the hell I am."

"I see…That's not so good."

Jay shrugged. "It's not as bad as it could be though. It might get worse though."

"Yes, if O'Reilly figures out who Anthony DiNozzo really is. I want you to stay with DiNozzo and his son. I don't want to risk them."

"Understood and noted boss."

Jay's voice was very low as the rest of the group trouped back in, with DiNozzo and Father Elis side by side. Jay lit up again, staring at the rest of the group, silently compiling a list of what she knew about them.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs – second 'B' for bastard, although she'd met guys who could put Gibbs' nature to shame, lead agent, ex-marine, still mourning the loss of his wife and child.

Caitlyn Todd – Catholic (a big mark in her favour), ex-law student, completed in profiling, ex-Secret Service (presidential detach at that), and an exemplary by the books agent.

Timothy McGee – MIT (damn, she hated geeks), first in his class, always in office-based NCIS jobs until Gibbs offered him a field-job on his hand-picked team, and he was doing well.

Abigail Sciuto – forensics expert, another first in class, never known to step down from a challenge, ballistics expert, strange (but awesome) dress sense, interesting choice of art, and a truly genius woman.

Anthony DiNozzo – consummate liar, good cop, unorthodox methods (probably due to his murky past), one son, a widower, yet a man you could trust with you life if you needed to.

Ah, the wonders of personnel files and past experience. It was the only way Jay knew anything, she'd steal the records of people she needed to know. Of course, Nemesis just seemed to know everything. The black-eyed woman sauntered past Jay and smirked down at her as though she knew something. Nemesis' eyes glanced swiftly to Tony and then returned to Jay for a moment. Jay's heart went stone-cold. If Nemesis knew… She cursed silently. She really hated the lawyer. She could just thank the heavens above that her job meant that she was rarely under the eye of the IA department, but she was under no illusions that Nemesis _didn't_ have a dossier compiled on her.

* * *

"So, where was I?" Hades mused, steepling his fingers in front of his face. Tony couldn't help but notice that with the high-back leather chair, Hades looked rather like a Bond villain.

"Ah, I know, the O'Reilly's. The O'Reilly's are a…they're an organized group of assassin."

"A _very_ organized group of assassins," Jay pointed out.

"Jay," Hades cautioned sternly. "Mouth shut. As I was saying, the O'Reilly's are an organized group. They all work under their own leader, Damien O'Reilly…"

"You know the guy's name and he's still loose?" Gibbs' tone was accusing. Jay glanced at Hades as if asking permission. He nodded slightly.

"Tell me if you've heard of these names Agent Gibbs," she instructed. "Tyler Peters?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Mark Yates?"

Another nod.

"Angel of Death?"

Another nod.

"Dakota?"

Gibbs frowned for a second and then nodded.

"Eliot Spencer?"

Another nod.

"Shana O'Reilly?"

Gibbs nodded a final time.

"All hitters still out there in the wild. It's not hard to escape, the ones who've stayed alive long enough to make a name for themselves, who've stayed out of the hands of the law, and if they've been caught," Jay leant forward her feet slipping off the table, her eyes deadly serious, the tip of the knife resting lightly on the table in front of her, turning in her hand. "If w- they've been caught, they'll find any way out that they can."

"Jay," Hades made a settling down motion. "We've been trying to get Damien Carson for years, we just don't have enough evidence, and seeing as he's an assassin, he's too careful for us to take out. Having the O'Reilly's gunning for one of you, or one of us, is seen by some as a mark that you've made it in the world. In reality it's that you've either made some really powerful enemies, or the O'Reilly's are pissed off. In this case, I think it might be the latter."

"If it is the O'Reilly's," Gibbs noted.

"Samurai," Tony stated. "Clear indicator."

"Now how do you know that DiNozzo?"

* * *

_Review...please?_

_Next time: DiNozzo faces some awkward questions, and someone's watching him, Jay and Dante._


	7. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hey, this is probably the last update before I go to Turkey. In fact, it is.

* * *

_

I cursed quietly. Why the hell had I been dumb enough to say that? I was a complete idiot some time. For some reason, despite the fact she'd been bating me all day, Jay leapt to my defence.

"I mentioned it earlier," she noted easily. "Maybe you didn't hear me first time around. Samurai was a favourite of O'Reilly's, I assumed he died about three years ago when a building blew up that he was assumedly in. Apparently I was wrong."

"Never assume anything," Gibbs rapped out automatically.

"I didn't really have a chance to assess the situation, I was busy finishing an extraction. Hades?"

"To be honest, all I have to add is ensure that no-one is left alone," Hades shrugged. "Jay will be staying with Agent DiNozzo and his son, Agent Gibbs, please sort out the rest of your team. Doctor Mallard has also been briefed, and is currently under the watchful eye of one of our best."

"Oh, so that's where he is!" Jay exclaimed. "I wondered why he wasn't here."

"Jay, mouth shut."

Jay shut her mouth sharply and looked at her boss with dark eyes. I was curious as to what she was thinking, and who this other guy who was looking after Ducky was, although I had an idea who it was. Gibbs stared at Hades in shock. I knew what he was thinking – 'that was short' – and it had been. Hades had been quick, to the point, and covered everything he needed to except one thing…

"Oh, and Agent Gibbs? The O'Reilly's are the best, anyone who works for them is going to be_ very_ good."

"So why doesn't your Ms Carson work for them?" Gibbs asked shortly.

Hades just smiled at him as Nemesis' phone went off. She glanced at it and looked over at Hades.

"That's the conference call ready, Chronos himself is there, and they've invited Agent Gibbs to sit in on the call."

"Very good Nemesis," Hades nodded, rising to his feet. "Agent Gibbs? If you could come with me please?"

Gibbs rose to his feet and followed Hades and Nemesis out of the conference room leaving Father Elis, Jay, Kate, Abby, McGee and me. Jay was smoking again, Father Elis was shaking his head at her, Kate and McGee were sharing looks and then sneaking what they obviously thought were surreptitious looks at me. Abby was looking at her phone and obviously debating calling Ducky. I reached out my hand and snagged Jay's pack of fags and her lighter.

"And I thought you'd quit," she mumbled as I lit up.

"I had," I responded in the same, quiet, out of the corner of my mouth tone. "After Peoria." We'd automatically decided, without talking, that I'd met Jay before in Peoria. "I just started again, and it's your fucking fault."

"My apologies, I'll try to be less stressful for you."

"You'll end up more stressful. I'll take the couch."

"Not a chance in hell. You sleep more than me."

"Who's fault is that?"

"You don't want to know."

"I've got one theory, and that might involve why you're keeping your back as covered as possible, you're nervous when someone walks behind you, and you can't sleep on it."

"You watched me sleeping?"

"Me and Father Elis briefly wandered into the office you were sleeping in."

"I see."

"So what's the deal?"

"Someone punched my back a couple of years back, hard, it didn't heal right."

"Bullshit."

Jay shrugged and leant back blowing out smoke. Father Elis moved so that he could appraise both of us. By this point, Kate and McGee were in a corner talking in hushed whispers and obviously unaware of how obvious it was that they were talking about the fact that I had a son. Abby was talking to Ducky over the phone, making sure he was alright and edging around the whole 'Gibbs may have an assassin after him' thing.

"You know," Father Elis spoke quietly, "this might work out for the best if everyone knew who you were Agent DiNozzo."

"I don't think so," I refuted, shaking my head. "I'm not risking this."

"You're risking it by saying nothing son."

Jay was watching me quietly. I realized that I'd unnerved her with our conversation. I figured I'd have a chance to pry later when she was staying with me and Dante. I'd checked on Dante earlier and found him and Tara playing a board game and arguing amicably about something or other with their hands. I'd made myself known briefly and then after assuring myself that yes, Dante was fine, and Tara was fine keeping him for as long as needed, I'd returned to the conference room with Father Elis. I shook my head slightly to clear it.

"What do you want from me?" I asked finally, feeling defeated.

"I want you to be true to yourself," Father Elis shrugged. "That's all I ask of anyone."

By this point his eyes had drifted to Jay who shrugged and made wide 'what?' eyes at him. I chuckled quietly. She really hadn't changed as much as it first seemed. Her mood swings were more violent, but she still had her same irreverent reaction to how people dealt with her. She didn't care what people thought, or so it always appeared. Unlike me, she literally _couldn't_ deal with a social situation where she was expected to be nice, polite and speak meaningless pleasantries. She was (strangely enough) too honest to throw around compliments she didn't mean, she was up front and sharp with it, rude some might say. I could schmooze my way through an evening, Jay couldn't. At least, she couldn't without ruffling feathers and probably injuring someone. She just wasn't cut out for social situations. She'd hardly ever been in any growing up. She'd been too busy free-climbing mountains (etc), learning to shoot straight, and a variety of other things.

I shook my head partly to clear it, and partly in answer to Father Elis' comment. "I'm just not sure who I am anymore. That's the problem."

And I didn't. It was clear that Jay still had some measure of self left. She still knew what she was – hell, she was still killing, and that told me plainer than day that she still knew she was a killer. I'd changed myself too much to really know who I was. I closed my eyes and saw a slim, curvy, small blonde in front of me.

"Course you know who you are," she smiled gently, green eyes glowing warmly. "You're the man I fell in love with.

"Not anymore love, not anymore," I replied quietly.

"Don't kid yourself, you're still essentially the same man. You're just on the opposite side of the law now. The _right_ side some might say…"

"And what do you have to say about that? Huh Ind?"

She rested her hand gently on my cheek. "I'm proud of you babe. How can you ever doubt that I would be? You did the right thing. Never doubt it. Never doubt yourself."

I blinked and realized I must have dozed off briefly, or started hallucinating… Jay was watching me out of the corner of her eye much more surreptitiously than Kate and McGee had managed (the only reason I knew that one was because I'd seen her do it before on countless occasions).

"You alright?" she asked me sotto voice.

"Fine," I replied quietly. "Just thinking…"

"Indy?"

"Indy. Telling me I haven't really changed."

Jay bit her lip for a second as she stood up. Her hand rested briefly on my shoulder, feather light, leaning down to whisper in my ear, with a look on her face that made it appear that whatever she was saying was lewd and sex related. "Contrary to what I said on the roof Ant? You haven't really changed all that much. Just changed sides." She straightened and headed for the doors. "I'm going to go crash the conference call. Have fun boys and girls."

With that she was out the door and away. Yup, I'd _definitely_ hit a nerve with our conversation. I suddenly found myself under the scrutiny of Kate and McGee. Father Elis had moved over to talk with Abby which didn't really surprise me.

"What?" I asked them, practically growling. McGee seemed to flinch back and I was surprised to find myself barely feeling any remorse. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem," McGee shook his head hurriedly. I smiled, and I'm sure it wasn't a _nice_ smile, it was probably a smile worthy of O'Reilly when he was contemplating some really evil torture.

"Well that's good then."

Abby and Father Elis were now watching our dispute, Abby curiously and slightly worried, with Father Elis watching calmly.

"Understand this, my private life is _none_ of your business. Stay out of it. And if I find out that you've been snooping into my background, any of you, I will personally make sure you're cited for insubordination. I'm _ordering_ you not to look into my background."

"What?" Kate exclaimed, aghast.

"Do you really forget that I'm the Senior Field Agent? That I'm senior to both of you?"

'_Did I really just do that?'_ I asked myself silently as Kate, Abby and McGee stared at me in shock. _'Bloody hell I did! Merda…'_

"Are you alright Tony?" Abby asked, hovering at the edge of my suddenly much increased personal space. I nodded.

"Yeah, I just don't like my work colleagues talking about me behind my back-" I started.

Kate and McGee immediately started to protest, but I silenced them with a glare that would've done Gibbs' proud.

"Think they're being sneaky about it, and then deny it. What is it Gibbs always says? If you're doing something you're not willing to 'fess up to, either don't do it, or make sure you don't get caught. I don't appreciate being gossiped about. Ask Gibbs what I did to the last person in NCIS who started gossiping about me."

Abby launched herself at me, latching onto my neck, and I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her close.

"You're talking about Agent Simmons aren't you?" she asked, already aware that I was – I kicked his ass in the ring, and then Gibbs had made sure he asked to be reassigned.

I nodded and held her closer. I'd always found Abby to be the best confidant I could have, despite not liking me to begin with. We'd bonded after I'd found myself on protection detail for her after some guy at a club she'd been to had become obsessed with her. We'd bonded over movies. I felt slightly bad for not trusting her with Dante. They would've got on. They _will_ get on, I decided. I wasn't going to think about this in the past tense just yet.

Father Elis was watching me quietly, a contemplative look on his face. I was slightly worried by the way he reacted to things. Sure, he was different to every Catholic priest I'd ever met, and the first I'd ever considered confessing to, but he was too alert and perceptive for my liking – it was like Jay had spoken to him about me, but she wouldn't have. I'd been out of her life a long time before she'd met him. Why would she have brought me up?

We all moved to different sides of the conference room, me and Abby taking one side, Kate and McGee taking the other, and Father Elis leaving the conference room entirely. I let Abby lean against me and curl against my side, she was clearly exhausted, crashing out after her sleepless night, and not enough following Caff-Pow!. Kate and McGee were clearly trying _not_ to speak about me.

* * *

Half an hour later Jay returned to the conference room at a dead run with a wide grin on her face she leapt up onto the table and cart-wheeled down it.

"PERSEPHONE!" Hades' voice roared. Jay dropped down and hid behind me.

"Protect me!" she exclaimed in mock terror.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Meh, I may have insulted three fifths of the non-figurehead high-command of Changeling. Zeus and Hera are pissed at me and Poseidon as ever wants my blood. Oh, and Hades thinks I'm an idiot for saying what I did, and Demeter is going to force me into another counselling session when I get back to HQ. Cue Hades…"

Right on Jay's cue, Hades walked in eyes furious.

"Of all the damned stupid things you could do!" he roared, ignoring everyone around, focusing on Jay who had ducked down behind me. She peaked out from behind me.

"Hey, I thought it was a justified comment," she exclaimed, ducking back down once she'd finished her statement. I could feel her searching for a second exit, seeing as, stupidly, there was only one exit. I could feel her gaze settling on the slightly ajar window. I tensed as I realized what her plan was. She was going to free-climb to the roof. Up a smooth surface – although no surface was completely smooth, and I _had_ seen her free-climb a glacier once… Why on earth she'd felt it was a good idea, I'll never know.

"How could you think telling Poseidon that he's, and here I'm quoting you 'a complete and utter, idiotic, hypocritical, idiot, who doesn't have a clue what the hell is going on', was a good idea?"

"Because it's the truth?" Jay hazarded, her body going rigid, ready to bolt.

"What's my chances of you facing me while we argue this out?"

"How about none?"

With that, Jay sprinted out from behind my back headed for the window, opened it wide enough to slip out and scuttle up the side of the building. I turned a raised eyebrow to Hades.

"Was this part of your plan for confronting her?" I inquired.

"At least it's not HQ. There's no ice for her to slip on here."

"That you managed to get her running is…actually it's not very surprising is it? She never did do well with confrontations."

"She normally deals with me yelling better than that Agent DiNozzo."

"I'm sure she does. Look on the bright side, it's not the Eifel Tower."

"I should go and talk to my wayward second…"

"Send Father Elis," I responded. "She'll just find away to avoid you, she clearly doesn't want to talk about her insubordination. He might have better luck with it."

Hades narrowed his eyes at me, and I remembered that Jay had vouched for me, and wondered what she'd told her boss. Whatever it was, it meant he seemed to trust my judgement. Hades paused before he left.

"Before Jay could be insubordinate," he told me, "she would first have to be a subordinate. Which she isn't to Poseidon. At least in her eyes."

With that he was gone and I was left wondering once again when Jay had turned into this strange creature. She'd always been unpredictable, but her moods had never varied that fast. She'd seemed oddly scared by Hades' wrath. And now she was out in the open on the roof. That wasn't a good thing. Not if Damien O'Reilly was out there.

(Third Person)

Jay leant back against the air vent. She didn't know what was making her this much more emotional than usual. Sure she was could go from happy to furious in a matter of seconds given the right motivation, but normally she didn't feel like a chastised child, normally baiting Hades was a sport, and pissing Poseidon off came under the same heading. For some reason, with Ant…no, he was making an effort to call her Jay, with Tony around, she was starting to feel…she couldn't really explain it. No, she could explain it. She was starting to feel like she was a teenager again.

She heard the door to the roof open and moved so that she could see around the vent while remaining concealed. Father Elis. She _really _didn't want to speak to anyone right now. Not even the kindly priest. She bowed her head as he called her name. He understood when she didn't want to talk. He'd back off, he'd leave her be, he'd stay on the roof and talk, but he wouldn't force her to talk, and that was all she needed to know.

Father Elis called her name a couple of more times before settling down on one of the ventilation ducts and starting to talk. He could talk for hours about everything and nothing. Right now he seemed to be practising his Sunday sermon, quoting passages about forgiveness, mercy and love. It always surprised Jay how easy it was for him to quote from the Bible. There was only one section of the Bible that she could quote, and always ended up making her feel guilty. She took a deep breath. This entire op was going to be a hell of a lot harder than she'd first thought.

* * *

_Please review!_


	8. Chapter 7

_Well, after my computer nearly died, I finally have internet back and an update for you. Please note that the end section of this was mostly written by my fabulous co-author for the story Jay actually comes from Ms Pyra Opal. And I think Jay uses the 'F' word just once in this...if that offends you, please be warned here.

* * *

_

Three hours later, Jay had been coaxed off the roof by Father Elis' promises of not preaching about how the child is not the parent, had made her peace with Hades in a rather unusual manner (Gibbs being given coffee had not a patch on the promise not to free-climb Changeling HQ for a month). At that point, Hades had said something about needing to return to Switzerland – while both Father Elis and Nemesis had elected to remain in America, with Father Elis' rather amusing:

"I'm fairly sure the young man who recently came to Changeling could do with learning how to cope with our resident killers."

So, Tony had brought Jay back to his apartment, and let her in, before taking Dante and heading down the hall to talk to Lee.

Jay looked carefully around Tony's apartment. With the amount of money he had, he could easily have found and purchased a much better apartment – an entire building's worth doubtless. Then again, Jay herself would have stayed low-key, and in a worse building than this. This apartment was a reasonably sized two-bed, with an open-plan living-kitchen area separated by an arch over a breakfast bar, an en-suite off the master bedroom and a second shower room off the hall to the bedrooms and front door.

The apartment somehow managed to be both incredibly homely and utterly impersonal at the same time. Dante's room was neat, but definitely a child's room – toys stacked neatly in cubby-holes and boxes, a car-motif bedspread on the bed. Tony's room was not at all in-keeping with his playboy image, utilitarian beige bed-spread, Ikea wardrobes, bedside cabinets and chest of drawers, the only personal touches two photos on the bedside cabinet – one of Dante as a young child and a striking blonde woman with forest green eyes. The en-suite held the essentials for Tony's cover – shampoo, soap, expensive aftershave, hair gel. (Jay saved the wardrobes and drawers for later perusal, she didn't have enough time). The shower-room was kitted out with purely the bare essentials for guests and Dante. The lounge held an expensive wide-screen TV and surround sound system, but the rest of the furniture was again Ikea. The cabinet under the TV and DVD/Blu-Ray player held an immense amount of DVDs and Blu-Rays as expected. There were a few more photos here. One Jay remembered taking of Tony, Dante and the blonde, a more recent shot of Tony and Dante, a large frame filled with pictures of Tony's team, and a picture of an anorexic teen in a bikini and sarong, leaning against a wall, with an angry red brand scar on her upper back, and tally-mark tattoos on her lower back, a barcode on her upper right shoulder. Jay glared at the photo, some things should just be forgotten. She turned the frame facedown. Now wasn't the time to be upset by people who'd died. The bookshelf to one-side contained three shelves of books, one of ornaments, and a fifth half-full of photo albums. Jay pulled a couple down to peruse through them, before throwing them back on the shelf as though burnt.

The kitchen was modern, although a gas hob range gave a salute to tradition. The benches were obviously faux-marble, and the cupboards cheap pinewood. The fridge-freezer was a flashy silver thing, and the kettle and coffee-machine were both black. Silver pans hung on hooks beside the cooker, while a block on the bench contained a set of professional ceramic knives. The plates, glasses and other crockery were all cheap, mass-produced stuff. To Jay's trained eye, it looked like someone was trying too hard to make the apartment look like a single-father living on fed pay owned it – and to boot, it looked almost like a showhome.

Tony and Dante came in at that point. Jay smiled, she wouldn't have had time to effectively search the bedroom (although she had found a cleverly concealed switchblade in the fridge, a gun underneath the back of the DVD cabinet and one behind Tony's bedside cabinet). Tony flashed her a warm smile and Dante bounded over to hug her.

"I'm going to shower and then to bed," Tony told her through a yawn. "And I think it's high time Dante was in bed too. It's been a long day."

Jay nodded and chivvied Dante off to brush his teeth and dress for bed. She delayed Tony with an admittedly important question about his security system (distraction 101: never use a pointless question if you can help it), and Dante was safely tucked away when Tony finally reached the shower. Jay knew how long Tony used to take in the shower, and was fairly sure it wouldn't have changed. She slipped into his room silently, and started first with his chest of drawers. A small jewellery box contained earrings and bracelets belonging to his late wife, while a smaller ringbox held their wedding bands. The bottom draw yielded a false bottom and a collection of hunting knives and long bladed daggers. Jay held one briefly, liking the way it fitted into her palm. She set it back and made sure nothing looked disturbed before turning her attention to the wardrobe. As she expected, it at first seemed as though it held only suits and shirts, but closer inspection revealed another false bottom. In here lay guns. Three semi-automatics with carefully filed off serial-numbers all lying beside holsters that could be clipped onto a belt and straps to form a shoulder or ankle holster. Smaller pistols that could be concealed in a purse or pocket were carefully places, without holsters along the front of the compartment. There was even an AK-47 lying along the back (although why Tony had an AK, Jay would never know). There were boxes of bullets and spare clips for all the weapons. To the side, sat two neatly stacked boxes – and what Jay had actually been searching for.

Jay paused, her inspection so far had taken five or so minutes, and the shower was still running. Tony would doubtless be a while yet, so she lifted the cases free and set them on the ground. The catches didn't open as soundlessy as she would have like, but there was no sound to indicate she had been discover. She flipped the cases open and stopped. Sat in the cases were two dismantled sniper rifles. She assembled the first – clearly customized for a left-handed shooter, she broke it down and assembled the other – a right-handed shooter as expected. The compartment, and the rifles smelt of gun-oil and all the guns were well maintained. She smiled sadly to herself, closed the cases reverentially and returned them to the compartment, closing it and ensuring it looked undisturbed.

She made her way back to the living area, and a feeling of being watched settled over her – manifesting between her shoulder-blades, and putting her on edge.

Half an hour later Tony re-entered the lounge to find to Jay in the kitchen making coffee.

"Coffee?" he raised an eyebrow, and Jay shrugged at him.

"I don't feel ready to sleep right now," she replied easily, sipping at the strong black brew in her hands. "Too many eyes."

"We're three floors up," Tony pointed out, noting incuriously the few minor changes that had happened to his apartment. The curtains had been drawn, one of the photos was facedown – and Tony knew which one, he corrected it absently – and the photo-albums on the top shelf of the bookcase had been disturbed. She hadn't been as careful with her search in here as she had with her search in his bedroom then (and yes, he had been aware of her rummaging through his chest of drawers).

"And?" Jay moved back into the lounge, turning the picture facedown again and sitting into the sofa. "I've killed people higher up than I am. Through plate-glass as well."

"Didn't you have a fifty-cal rifle for that one?"

"True… But what's to say the guy after us doesn't have one?"

Tony stuck his tongue at her and she smirked.

"You really don't like that photo do you?" Tony gestured at the photo-frame.

"Why would I?" Jay's voice was sharp, her eyes accusing. "You're living in the past. Living people don't belong there."

* * *

Jay woke up in the muted grey light of pre-dawn – darkened further by the drawn curtains. She looked at the clock stood on the bookshelf and ascertained that it was just a little past five in the morning. She ran a hand over her face and tried to remember the last time she'd slept properly – or what counted for proper for her. A smile stretched her lips as she nodded to herself. She was good. Running her hands through her hair, she moved to make coffee, before rifling through the fridge for something suitable for breakfast. She was a passable cook – looking out for herself was second nature – but that didn't mean she cooked regularly. She found eggs and milk and decided on pancakes when lemon juice made itself apparent on the shelf. She smirked as she checked the milk and set about making batter. While leaving it to stand, she made her way over to the window and twitched the curtain to one side, looking out cautiously, unconsciously holding her breath.

_There_.

On the roof opposite, the rising sun was glinting off the metal of a rifle (a sight Jay had seen many times). She shook her head – a rookie being set to watch them then. No-one with any kind of experience would have kept his rifle up during dawn – or if he had, the metal would've been covered to stop reflections. She shook her head and let the curtain fall back into place as she heard Tony stirring. She checked the time, the batter still needed to stand. She debated what to do about the person on the opposite roof – if they were a rookie, they wouldn't recognize her, so all was well on that front, and yet...

She scowled, this was not a good turn of events – the one sniper had effectively cornered them in this building unless… She moved back to the window as Tony entered the room, she pulled the curtain back as his hand landed on her shoulder. She turned and pressed a kiss to his lips, her hand covering his cheek and blocking their mouths as she offered him a brief summary of the situation.

"What do you suggest?" Tony asked as Jay headed for the kitchen, quickly heating and greasing a pan, before pouring the batter into it in a thin layer.

She shrugged as she ran a knife around the edge of the pancake. "I don't know. There's part of me saying give the guy a number and set up a meeting. Then there's the part of me that's saying that Hades'll shoot me himself if I do."

"What about this mysterious guy looking after Ducky?"

"Si? Oh, he's sound. Won't let anything happen to the Doc." She expertly flipped the pancake, before looking at Tony again. "Go wake Dante up. Breakfast is turn and turn about. You know the deal."

Tony rolled his eyes, going to wake his son up. Five minutes later, the three of them were gathered in the kitchen, Jay at the stove making the pancakes and dishing them onto plates, letting Tony and Dante cover their own in sugar and lemon juice as it pleased them, taking every third one for herself as she continued to cook. There was a homely feel to it, and pain lanced through her heart as she remembered Indy – a warm-hearted woman, who regardless could go toe-to-toe with some of the fiercest men Jay had ever met, and come out on top. This had been a tradition from before Dante was born, Jay, Tony and Indy, but with Indy cooking, not Jay. Tony saw the flash of pain in Jay's eyes, but said nothing, choosing instead to continue ribbing his son good-naturedly about the girl from school who had gained the title of 'best friend'. The conversation stopped briefly as Dante was given another plate, and Tony and Jay debated back in forth with words that could seem like harmless flirtation to anyone who didn't know them.

Eventually, Tony's phone rang and a short conversation with Gibbs later, he gave Jay a sharp nod. She ordered them to do the dishes, stepping back into the living room and producing a pad and pen from the drawer in the coffee table. She scribbled something on the pad in her long-handed scrawl and then ripped the piece of paper off and went to press it to the window. She waited for a few moments and then stepped back, taking the paper with her, and picking up the headset that had been given to her to replace the one in Abby's lab – the Goth being given carte blanche to dismantle and examine the original – and hooking it over her ear. Dante was handed over to a sleepy Lee – Dante wasn't in danger, there were _some_ rules the O'Reilly's played by, the first and foremost being that children were not involved in spats the parents were involved in – and Tony and Jay headed for the Navy Yard. As Tony pulled into the garage, Jay hit her headset – obviously her phone had gone of.

"Carson," she snapped into the mouthpiece. "Well hello Samurai…tell your rookie to cover his rifle next time…heh, tell old man O'Reilly to meet me…that'll do fine. Eight o'clock sounds about right… Tomorrow? No, you don't get to choose. It'll be tonight… Because I said so. Oh go fuck yourself. Tonight, and if he's not there, someone will die. Probably you. Tell him no backup, and that I won't either."

With that, she hit the side of her headset again and smirked to herself as Tony watched her.

"You're going to meet O'Reilly?"

"Yup. Why?"

"You're not going without backup."

"Never said I was."

"Yes you…" Tony rolled his eyes as it dawned on him – of course she was going to take backup. Because O'Reilly would as well, and they both knew it.

* * *

Damien O'Reilly knew someone was in his apartment the moment he entered. The reason he knew was because he could hear the shower running. Better safe than sorry, he crept silently towards the bathroom, kitchen knife in hand (not the best weapon but it would do if the need arose). Noiselessly he opened the door, a wave of steam hitting him in the face. In less than three seconds he crossed the room and threw open the shower curtain. He put the knife down as he was met with a familiar face and scream.

"What the fuck Damien?"

The woman in his shower shot him a furious glance before she yanked the shower curtain back. It didn't really matter though, Damien had already caught sight of the bruise forming on her shoulder and the finger marks around her wrist. Aya was back again.

"You could have been an intruder," he explained in a calm voice as he sat down on the toilet seat and waited for Aya to finish.

She snorted. "Oh yes, because an intruder would stick around to use your shower. Pass me a towel and go away."

Vaguely annoyed at being ordered around in his own home, he nevertheless passed Aya a towel and left the bathroom, choosing to put the kettle on and make tea as Aya got dressed. As she emerged from his room in his old shirt and joggers, he noticed that she favoured her right leg more than her left.

"Twisted it," she mumbled when she noticed his stare. Taking the tea, over to his couch, he shifted up to allow Aya to join him and for a moment they just sat together sipping tea.

"He hit you again."

It wasn't a question and Aya didn't bother to deny it. She stretched out her injured leg and set it on his lap, allowing him to inspect it while she flicked through a magazine she'd left behind last time.

Nothing was broken, so Damien allowed himself to just sit and watch the woman who would just waltz into his apartment like she owned the place, yet refused to waltz out on the man who hurt her. It made Damien contemplate a free hit, but it didn't help that the man in question had once been his protégé. What was it about his protégé's betraying him?

"What are you thinking?" Aya asked, turning down a page of her magazine at an item she might wish to purchase later.

"That everything in that thing is horribly expensive." But he knew she didn't buy it, money for Aya was never an issue. Sometimes he wished he'd got to her before others did.

"Stressful day?" Aya asked.

When he didn't reply she took his silence for a yes.

"Want to talk about it? It can help."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because for all I know you could sell me out faster than it takes you to purchase a new pair of shoes."

Aya stood up looking horribly offended, doing her best to ignore the pain in her foot and made her way into to Damien's bedroom, coming back with her bag and her horribly expensive pair of designer shoes. Heading towards the door she found Damien blocking her path.

"You cannot go flouncing home in those things," he gestured to her four inch heels.

"I'll give you a lift home." He cursed her for making him feel bad. She was too good at it.

The journey to her house started in strained silence. Aya stared mutinously out the window, clutching her bag and shoes. Damien doubted he'd get his old clothes back, she's probably burn them out of spite. In a bid to make peace, he decided to let her in on a bit of what had been bothering him.

"Two O'Reilly ex-hitters have turned up and are making nuisances of themselves. The one called Jay Carson in particular, she wants to meet. It is difficult to decide what to do with them."

"Will you kill them?" Aya asked softly and Damien found that in that moment he hated her. Hated how she seemed to judge him with that voice. Hated how he wanted to assure her that it was the last thing on his mind.

"Maybe. What do you think?"

"I thought you didn't trust me."

"I don't trust anyone Aya, but you're the one so eager to talk about my day. So talk."

Quickly glancing over at her he noticed that she had her head pressed against the car window, watching the world fly past with a glazed look on her face. Just as he thought he might be mercifully allowed to drop the topic, she answered.

"I think that if I'd been an assassin then I'd of tried to find a way out by now. Not everyone can cope with what you do Damien. Just...consider that when you spare a man or save a man, then from that moment on they owe you, and that's a powerful thing to have."

She was right, in some ways, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of letting her know she was right.

He sighed as he drew up in front of Aya's building. "I don't suppose you'd care to give a reason why all ex-hitters seem to make it their job to mess up my current ones."

Aya turned in her seat to look him in the eye. "Redemption," was all she said as she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.

Damien noticed how the usual traces of her expensive perfume didn't cling to her like it normally did, having been washed away with his shower. He tried very hard not to think on why he noticed or why he cared.

As Aya left the car and made her way into the grand apartment building Damien reflected that she was one dangerous woman. The type of woman who would try and drag all his secrets out of him if she got the chance. And Damien decided not to think on whether or not she might do anything with his secrets if she ever discovered them. Taking a breath, he decided that he would meet Ms Carson, and maybe find out just who the hell she was.

* * *

Aya watched Damien leave from her living room window. Her apartment was empty, thankfully. Hearing her mobile ring, she fished it out her pocket, glancing at the caller id before placing it to her ear.

"Zeus?... Yes it's Pandora... He's experiencing doubt. I advise Persephone play it cautious. As long as she doesn't make too much noise then she has a chance."

* * *

_And so you meet Aya. Who probably won't turn up again...but she's brilliant :-D. And no, Damien is not completely evil as you can see from this. Please let me know what you think. :-D_


	9. Chapter 8

_Tony and Jay are both a little foul-mouthed in this one, that said, a couple of Jay's curses are in Irish Gaelic – which I do not actually speak, I'm using a website! Also there's a cameo in here – and I'm not telling you what of, but if you notice it, cookies! (Of a virtual variety…)

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_

Me and Jay were arguing as we entered the bullpen.

"We can provide adequate backup!" I practically yelled at her as she stormed ahead of me.

"_You_ are adequate backup amadán!" Jay snapped angrily (anger bleeding through when she started using Gaelic). "It's not like I'll be in any danger!"

"You're going to meet fucking Damien O'Reilly! That's the _definition_ of being in danger!"

"He's not going to _try_ anything báltaí!"

"Idiotaputtana!" I snapped threw back (I knew she could talk Italian fluently). "Do you _want_ to get yourself killed?"

"Téigh trasna ort féin! I'm not fucking suicidal! I'll be perfectly _fine_!"

Kate tried to attract both our attentions at that point, "Um guys…?"

"Stai zitto," I snapped as Jay twisted to her to bite out: "Bí 'do thost."

Kate backed off as me and Jay rounded back on each other, throwing out insults with our arguments.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs roared finally. "Carson!"

We both blinked owlishly at him, mouths shut petulantly, Jay's arms crossed across her chest, almost pouting.

"What're you on about?"

"We're being tailed," Jay retorted sharply. "So I made an offer to the rookie. He chose to pass my message on to Samurai and I've got a meeting with O'Reilly tonight."

She smiled sweetly as everyone froze.

"And I think she's an idiot," I fought to force my accent away from Italian and back to the American accent I'd adopted.

"And you're going to be there as back up Tony."

"Because he'll have just _one person as backup_!"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Either way, having a dozen or so _feds_ who _look_ and _act_ like _feds_ go in is the fastest way to actually _get_ me killed."

And why could she not have said that from the start? It would've stopped us from having this entire argument. That said, she'd never really enjoyed doing things the easy way…

"We've got undercover agents," Gibbs growled. "And surely a military person could slip in…"

"Hardly," Jay retorted scornfully. "Unless we're talking arms dealers, the O'Reilly's avoid military like the plague, and few undercover agents are good enough, young enough, to fool them. The meeting's in a club. You send in any of the older agents and they're going to look out of place. Tony can do it easily. He looks young enough, and probably goes out clubbing enough. You could send your forensic tech in, but I doubt you'd like that. Seriously, the safest thing to do is let me and Tony go in, you set up surveillance a few streets away, I'm sure McGeek over there could do it…"

McGee spluttered as Jay immediately adopted one of my nicknames for him.

"…and you monitor the club without blowing me out the water. I don't particularly want to die."

Gibbs scowled, but after another ten minutes of Jay explaining why she _wasn't_ taking feds into a club besides me, he was forced to agree. At that point Nemesis walked in.

"MTAC," she stated calmly gesturing up. "All of you, Hades is on the line. Or rather he will be in five minutes."

We quickly hurried up to MTAC, with Jay immediately taking a seat on one of the desks cross-legged and hooking one of the headsets on with a grin. Hades' appeared on the screen.

Hades offered an almost frozen smile. "We need to talk about this operation."

"There's not much to talk about boss," Jay pointed out. "We need to get the O'Reilly's away from here and figure out what in hell's name they actually _want_ to begin with."

"We still need to talk about it."

Jay shrugged vaguely.

"Oh, and Jay, Pandora says for you to be cautious, she thinks that if you keep your head down you might be able to stay under O'Reilly's radar."

"Even if I was inclined to listen to that stuck-up bitch I'd have to say no. Got a meet set up for tonight."

"Without first consulting me?"

"I didn't consult you because I _knew_ this would be you reaction. You're going to forbid me to do it right?"

Hades frowned at her. I smirked to myself – so she still enjoyed antagonizing authority figures, although back then it had been cops, now it was her boss, and my boss.

"But my response is this: you forbid me, I'm still going to go and meet him. I _need_ to find out what he knows! You _know_ that!"

"It's dangerous."

"He's already told me that," Jay threw her hand back at me.

"And then you got petty," I retorted. (I for one did not appreciate being called a báltaí, it was one of the few Gaelic words I knew the meaning of, mostly those words were the insults Jay had tended to throw at me).

"You were just as petty as me," she threw back angrily. "You called me an idiot!"

"Idiot whore," I corrected her blandly. "And tell me it isn't true."

Jay chose to ignore that statement, keeping her eyes fixed on her boss, waiting for him to give in. Hades chose to ignore her and look at me.

"Is there a reason you called my SIC an idiot whore?"

"Because she is one?" I offered mildly. "She got petty first. I was merely responding in kind. Did you have anything to say boss?" I turned to Gibbs and quirked an eyebrow – well aware that me, Hades and Jay had just taken over this conversation, Nemesis was still staring at me with that strange, blank, calculating look.

"I think that Miss Carson's covered it," Gibbs gritted out – he still didn't like this situation. I'd known that anyway. "She's given us ways we can back her up without blowing her cover."

Hades sighed. "Fine. If you get yourself killed Carson, I'm not coming to the funeral."

"Don't expect you to boss," Jay shrugged coolly. "I'm just asking you to let me get answers."

"Dismissed."

Jay stalked out, leaving the rest of us facing Hades.

"Don't let her get herself killed," he commented easily. "She may not be suicidal, but she'll take risks to get answers. She doesn't have a problem with the O'Reilly's gunning for her, but when they start gunning for… 'innocents' just because they're vaguely connected to her, she starts getting pissed off."

Gibbs had folded his arms over his chest, and was frowning slightly. "At least she has the honour to defend them."

"She's not what you think she is. She's not a bad person."

Kate and McGee shared a look that implied that they thought otherwise. Nemesis shot them an assessing look and then went back to ignoring them. Gibbs and Hades discussed the way surveillance would be set up on the club, with McGee offering his two cents on how it could be done. After half an hour (most of which had been without Jay), the conference was finished and we filed out of MTAC. On the balcony, as the others descended the stairs, Nemesis caught my arm, pulling me closer to her with surprising strength (she didn't have Jay's obvious wiry muscle, or any other obvious muscle that I could see).

"I know who you are," she whispered to me, before releasing her grip and continuing down the stairs as though she hadn't just said something that had made my heart stop dead in my chest.

How in hells name did Nemesis know who I was?

I shook off the feeling settling in my lower stomach and quickly descended to the bullpen. Jay was cross-legged on my desk, explaining to Gibbs that she didn't care, nor need to know what NCIS was doing about monitoring her – she wasn't wearing a wire, on that point she was firm. I couldn't blame her, the closest she'd ever got to a wire as far as I was aware was her phone, which she explained had an inbuilt radio communicator for team missions.

* * *

At lunch, me and Jay decided to go out – offering to buy everyone else lunch if they gave us a little bit of time. Nemesis declined, stating that she would get something on the way back to her hotel. We meandered into a nearby coffee shop.

"Hey Zee," I grinned at the owner who was working behind the counter.

"Hey Tonio," she grinned back. "What can I get you and your lady-friend?"

"What d'you want Jay?"

Five minutes later, we were installed at one of the out-of-the-way corner booths, with a good view of the entire shop, a cup of Zee's strongest coffee for Jay and a cup of proper English tea for me, waiting for our lunch. We sat in silence for a few minutes before Jay spoke.

"Sorry about earlier," she offered blandly.

"Me too," I agreed.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"What made you think I wanted to talk to you?"

"I _know_ you dear. And you asked for your team to give us a bit of a time, you wouldn't have done that if we were just running out for lunch and you didn't want a conversation."

I chuckled, I sometimes forgot just how perceptive Jay had always been – before she'd even been going as 'Jay'. "Just something Nemesis said that got me a bit freaked out."

"Oh?" an arched eyebrow, and the single syllable, accompanied by her taking a sip of her coffee.

"She claims to know who I am."

"Wouldn't surprise me to be completely honest."

"It _wouldn't_?"

"She's an IA agent! I wouldn't be surprised if her past was as chequered as yours or mine. She knows just about _everything_. Don't ask me _how_, she just knows. You can rest assured that your secret's safe in her hands. She won't tell Gibbs unless she thinks that he _needs_ to know it. Most of what she knows she treats as 'need-to-know' and it's very rare that anyone needs to know – even the Sector Heads or Chronos. Can't say I'm sure why she _told_ you she knew who you were…"

"She said 'are'."

"Heh, Nemesis subscribes to people don't really change. You may have changed basically, but for the most part you're still who you were all those years ago."

"Am I?"

"Your humour's the same, you've darkened slightly from losing Indy, but you're still essentially the same good guy."

"Good is debatable darling."

"It is in everyone. Shades of grey, leannán."

"You know it's kind of disturbing having you call me that."

She laughed and grinned at me as our lunches arrived. "Maybe that's the idea darling."

"Evil girl."

"You know it!"

* * *

The evening arrived too fast for my liking, with us grabbing a quick dinner as Jay got ready to go into the club, a good hour before she'd said she'd meet O'Reilly. Gibbs had ordered that Jay not be armed – apparently even sending her into a dangerous situation wasn't enough for my boss to forget that Jay was an assassin. Jay simply rolled her eyes and shrugged it off, pulling on her leather jacket and lifting the backpack she'd been using and throwing it onto her shoulder, catching it with her other arm before it hit her back. We headed down to the vehicles. Jay and I would share a car, with Jay getting out several blocks away from the club and walking there, while I drove the rest of the way and slipped in. The rest of the team would be in a van several streets away, monitoring the club from a distance.

I stopped to let Jay out and she got out, grinning at me. "See you inside then. Look after yourself."

"You too," I responded. "Watch your back."

"Always."

With that, she closed the door, and meandered away. I drove off, finding a car park near to where the club was. I walked in confidently, striding over to the bar and ordering a beer, before going and finding myself an out of the way table where I had a good view of the club, but was mostly concealed myself and automatically scanning the club. It was dark, but not the way a lot of typical 'clubs' were, it was all low level lighting, no flashing disco lights, and just to make things a bit more interesting, it was in fact one of those clubs where there is some rather interesting entertainment. I forced my eyes away from the girl currently dancing on one pole. Of course the meeting would be in a club like _this_.

Ten minutes later, Jay walked in, walked straight to the bar, sat at one of the stools and ordered a shot of something and a beer. I couldn't help but think that she was being more than a little bit foolish. That said, like Hades' had said, she loved to take risks.

Half an hour later, O'Reilly walked through the door. I tensed, and immediately tried to sink further into the shadows around me. O'Reilly spotted Jay and headed over to her. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

_Translations:_

_Amadán – idiot_

_Idiota puttana – idiot whore_

_Stai zitto/ Bí 'do thost – shut up_

_Leannán - lover_

_If you want the other Gaelic translations let me know._


	10. Chapter 9

_I still haven't managed to take over the world, or even the studio that produces NCIS, so I still own nothing except the laptop, and unrecognizable characters and the concept itself for this story.

* * *

_

Jay leant back against the bar, holding the beer loosely in one hand, head forward so that her hair fell into her eyes. She lifted the bottle to her lips as her senses continued to scan her surroundings. It was half an hour after she'd first walked in that she felt someone sit down beside her.

"Why am I not surprised you chose here for our meeting?" she asked quietly – though loud enough to be heard.

"Well why wouldn't I?" Damien O'Reilly enquired, arching one eyebrow at her – she caught it out of the corner of her eye. "The view is good, I know you agree," the second bit was said more than a little scornfully as Jay took a moment to check out the current dancer, "and the drinks cheap."

"Like you worry about money. You've got more than enough of it to last several lifetimes. I'm surprised you haven't retired yet."

"I would've. But my heir disappeared on me."

"Probably got tired of you being a jackass to 'em."

"Perhaps, or perhaps they just couldn't handle the pace."

"I suppose it is a job that few people can keep up with the pace of. And let's face it, most of those who go the distance are either your lackeys, your allies or your enemies."

So far, they'd just sat, Jay facing the club, O'Reilly the bar. Neither of them was particularly willing to be the first to break the stalemate they'd settled into.

"Why did you offer a meeting?" O'Reilly asked after five minutes of silence. "You do realize that I could've just let Samurai come and finish you off."

"No you couldn't," Jay retorted coolly, signalling for another beer. "One: if someone pisses you off enough that you're going to kill them, you'll do it yourself. Two: you're too curious about who I am. After all 'Carson' isn't exactly a known hitter name."

"I wasn't curious. Intrigued, not curious."

"Sure, go ahead, keep bullshitting yourself. Your choice, not mine. Of course the great Damien O'Reilly can't admit to being curious about an unknown hitter taking out one of his main arms suppliers."

"That just pissed me off. Where on earth are my people going to get guns from now?"

"They'll figure something out. One thing I know for sure, assassins are bloody good at improvising. We have to be. After all, it _is_ our job."

"Still think of it as your job as well then?"

"It's not as though I've changed all that much. Just sides. I'm still a killer. Always will be. Don't really know how to be anything else."

Another silence fell over them. Jay's eyes drifting half-closed, seemingly lulled into a security she shouldn't be feeling. Not that she was half as relaxed as she appeared.

"Why are you here?" O'Reilly asked after another long silence.

"Why not?" Jay shrugged casually, her eyes scanning the club, looking for familiar faces. "I need answers, and you know it. Why're you going after Gibbs?"

"He was in my way. He still is. You know what I do to people who get in my way."

"It wasn't _your_ way he was in. It was Samurai's, and he'd arrested me, which I thought would've been a load off your mind. And surely you could've figured out who I was from the security cameras in NCIS. I _know_ you got hackers working for you."

"I don't like overtaxing them. They get pissy with me. Who knew guys could be such prisses when it came to getting overworked?"

Jay shot the man a sideways look, a crooked smile crossing her lips. "You should meet some of the guys I work with. More prude than a grandmother. Can't have a decent conversation with them for love nor money. Might just be that they've never got laid…"

O'Reilly chuckled. "That could be the problem with the geeks I employ. Don't get laid often enough."

"If at all, most of 'em are probably still virgins."

"Oh no, a couple of them ain't."

"I'm not going to ask how you know that. Back to my question, why gun for Gibbs?"

"Cause Samurai can be as bitchy as the geeks. He's one of my best and I'd really rather not have him get all prissy with me."

Jay laughed outright at that. "Scared of the little fake-samurai getting pissed off at you?"

"Hardly, I could take him down without a thought. But it'd cost me a highly lucrative revenue stream."

"Can't let that revenue stream dry up."

"What? And you have let your revenue stream dry up? Like you don't take the occasional private contract."

Jay chose not to answer that one. She really didn't want to open _that_ can of worms. Besides, she'd found herself getting steadily more selective about the private contracts she took – the ones that only Nemesis and Father Elis knew about. She rapped her fingers against the glass of the bottle.

"What I do in my spare time is no-one's business," she offered instead.

O'Reilly rolled his eyes at her. "Speaking of, I don't suppose you found out what happened to Ginelli?"

Jay sighed, bowing her head. She'd _known_ this had been coming. "They're dead. Both of them. You knew one was, the other's dead too. Face it, they ain't coming back."

"What about the kid?"

"How in hell's name should I know? I didn't look too hard."

"That surprises me. You were closer to them than you were to the others."

Jay ignored that comment and returned to the topic at hand. "I supposed asking you to stop gunning for Gibbs isn't going to work?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow at the man beside her.

"Not likely. I gave Samurai the go ahead to wipe him out."

"Then I guess I'll have to get a little more forceful."

"Forceful? Let's see what you've got then."

* * *

"_Isn't it strange the complications people attach to situations almost as if they want to miss the wood for the trees?"_

_

* * *

_

Tony could hear what they were saying over the earpiece he was wearing, and Jay had her phone hooked over one ear. He watched as both O'Reilly and Jay tensed, almost imperceptibly even to the trained eye. Jay's head was tilted back now, her free hand sliding down to rest on her belt. O'Reilly had brought his hand over his chest to rest on his opposite arm.

"Things are about to get even more interesting…" Tony commented quietly as he watched.

When what he was waiting for finally happened, it happened too fast for him to really see. One moment, Jay and O'Reilly were sat at the bar, the next, both were on their feet, guns pointed firmly at each other's heads, manic grins on their faces. Tony moved to intervene, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I wouldn't get involved," Samurai smirked. "I think she can handle herself."

Tony went rigid and moved his own hand to where his gun was concealed.

"You really want to try that?"

A smirk stretched Tony's face and he moved, knocking Samurai's hand away and going for a Jay-esque move pointed his gun at Samurai's crotch.

"You want to try something?" he asked. "You might be able to kill me, but I could still pull the trigger twice before that happens, moving the gun while I'm at it. And maybe you die, and maybe you don't, but either way, you'll never get your cock back."

Samurai scowled furiously at him, knowing he was trapped, but Tony knew he couldn't move either. If he did, Samurai would get an opening, and he didn't want that. It didn't really surprise him that no-one was really responding to the four guns now in play around the club (the fourth being the one Samurai was holding to Tony's head). He should've known, with a name like 'Murphy's' it was bound to have something to do with the O'Reilly's. They owned a few bars like this one where there was a warped version of the DADT law in place (you could be any sexual orientation you wanted, but no-one questioned guns being drawn, and police avoided it even if shots were heard). So, here they were, two standoffs about fifty yards from each other. Damien's eyes flicked over to where Samurai was stood, and Tony could tell that he didn't know what was going on, couldn't tell who the second person was. Then the hitter-boss was focused on Jay again, his focus obviously wasn't too far from her to begin with. Her focus hadn't wavered, and she'd finally placed the beer bottle back on the bar.

"So what's your move Samurai?" Tony asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Cause I've made mine."

* * *

"_Nothing will change my basic feelings when you've done all the wheeler dealing; those in the stronger situations do as they please._"

* * *

"What the hell is going on in there?" Gibbs demanded furiously.

"You might want to take a look at that screen boss," McGee pointed at the screen where the feed from the camera attached to Tony's glasses was being displayed.

Gibbs bit out a curse as he saw what was going on in the club. Jay was facing off with a man that was obviously O'Reilly – and when in hell's name had she got the gun? Just to the side of the camera's view he could see a gun pointed at Tony's head, and the gun that Tony was pointing somewhat lower. He wished they actually had sound. Tony and Jay seemed to be able to communicate, but they couldn't hear it – McGee hadn't been able to tell him why.

"Why is no-one reacting?" Kate asked, completely confused. "I mean they have _guns_ pointed at each other…"

"Because Murphy's is a hitter bar," Nemesis stated as she stepped into the van and held out a tray of Styrofoam mugs. "Coffee?"

Gibbs snatched one of the mugs out of the tray and chugged half of it. "And you didn't feel inclined to tell us this?"

"I thought Carson would've told you. That said, it would've been too much to ask from that girl…"

"And are you the one who gave her the gun?"

"No, I honestly don't have a clue how she got it. That said, she's always had resources. Something any assassin needs. Especially one working for us. They don't get that much back-up from us."

"Why not?"

"Because half the time, even Hades doesn't actually know where they are. Sure we know which continent they're on, and normally the country, but we don't know where or when they'll do the job. They pretty much do their job as it pleases them. So long as we get results, we don't care. So, they're pretty much left to fend for themselves. They're survivors. It's their job."

Gibbs was a little startled at how easily she said it – at how dismissive they were of the assassins they employed. "What if they decided to betray you?"

"Half our assassins are military, the other half either can't leave, or know the consequences if they do. Either way, the criminal half would end up dead."

"Ex-criminal," McGee corrected absently.

"You don't believe that anymore than I do Timothy. They might change sides, but they can't change their hearts."

"Are you saying that I just sent my Senior Field Agent into a bar most probably filled with assassins, with an assassin who not only has a gun, but might at any moment have a change of heart?" Gibbs demanded harshly.

"I think your Senior Field Agent can look after himself," Nemesis responded, looking pointedly at the gun pressed against Samurai's crotch. "Besides, Carson knows she can't hide from us."

* * *

"_You might see all kinds of human emotion here, passion and pain, love and hate."_

_

* * *

_

Jay decided plainly that it was time to end the stalemate and get the hell out of dodge.

"Look, either you leave Gibbs and his team alone," she stated, "or I make you."

"You don't have the guts," O'Reilly laughed. "And why do you care so much?"

"Cause you're a bastard, and they ain't."

Jay chose that moment to make her move, ducking under O'Reilly's gun and clocking him one in the jaw, darting past him to make her way to the door. His fist powered into her back, dropping her to her knees as an agonized half-scream escaped her lips. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it up behind her.

"You're not strong enough to defy me girl!"

Jay closed her eyes briefly. She couldn't let this happen, she had to get out, and she had to get out _now_. She breathed through the pain for a moment, then her eyes shot open and she moved, using his grip on her wrist as leverage and slamming her head back into his nose, before diving for the door. She heard O'Reilly give an involuntary cry of pain and ignored it, more focused on escape. She heard someone else get punched and the sounds of someone following her – she didn't have time to check whether it was Tony or Samurai yet, although in a minute Samurai would probably start shooting. A hand grabbed her and dragged her in the opposite direction.

"Car's over here!" Tony snapped at her as she fought him. She still released her hand from his grip to follow him. She was too raw right now to accept human contact.

Tony was quick to open the car doors and they leapt in, Jay forgoing her seatbelt to lean forward and brace her hands on the dash in front of her, breathing deep, adrenaline draining and pain making itself known once more. Her breath caught in her chest and a hand on her shoulder made her slam into the car door. She cursed under her breath.

"Sorry N- Tony," she whispered. "Just a bit on edge right now…"

"Can't blame you. I'd be on edge after a confrontation like that. Way to hold a gun steady girl."

"You had your gun pressed very steadily into Samurai's balls."

"Meh, I never liked Samurai."

"I never like O'Reilly."

Tony shot her a look that said he _really_ wanted to call 'bullshit', but he kept his mouth closed.

"Besides, Samurai's what? Six years younger than you?"

"And you're ten years younger than me? What's your point?"

"Never mind. How far are we from the Navy Yard?"

Tony had the decency to not comment on her rather obvious play for the subject to be changed as he gave an ETA for them to get back – both of them guessing that the rest of the MCRT would've headed back to the yard once Tony and Jay cleared the club and were in the car. Jay still hadn't leant back, and she hadn't actually looked at Tony since she'd leant forward, her head was now resting on the dash, her eyes closed, her breathing evening out as she struggled to ignore the pain that was still pulsing through her back – it was never _gone_ per se, but most of the time, it wasn't noticeable, not like this, white-hot pain. She gritted her teeth and pulled herself together through sheer willpower.

"Let's go get the yelling over and done with," she stated firmly, stepping out of the car, and making sure that her gun was slipped back into its place in the back of her jeans. Tony followed her up to the bullpen.

The others were there waiting for them. Nemesis was stood off to one side, engrossed in something on her palm-pilot (if Jay didn't know the IA agent better, she would've suggested she was playing games). Gibbs looked furious.

"Does one of you want to tell me what happened in there?" he demanded.

Tony and Jay shared a long look, turned back to Gibbs and stated together, "No."

"Let me rephrase that. One of you _is_ going to tell me what just happened in there!"

"Jay?" Tony turned to the woman. "You want to take that one?"

"O'Reilly gave the go-ahead to Samurai on a hit to you," Jay frowned to herself. "And he won't take it off. Yet."

"Yet?"

"Yes, that's were the guns came into play. I was trying to make him back down. As you can see, that failed miserably."

"And the punches?"

"I wanted to get out of there. The space between my shoulder blades was starting to feel itchy. And just above my eyes."

"Anything to add Tony?"

"Samurai clicked that I was backup," Tony shrugged. "Not sure how. But he forced me to…take action, as I'm sure you saw."

"And neither of you thought it might be a good idea to let me know that the bar you were walking into was a hitter bar?"

"Not really…"

"Didn't think it was important," Jay shrugged. "S'not like you could've changed my mind about meeting O'Reilly either way."

"And how Ms Carson did you get that gun?"

"Father Elis brought me a go-bag. I always have weapons in them. It's not prudent for an assassin wanted by other assassins to wander into a situation facing those assassins without a weapon of some variety. Just so you know, I've also got a ceramic-blade knife tucked into the top of my boot."

There was silence after that. Then Kate spoke up.

"So what happens now?"

"Now?" Jay glanced over at the ex-Secret-Service agent. "Now we do what assassins do best. We wait."

"That's it?" McGee sounded more than a little off-kilter.

"Yes," Nemesis spoke up. "We've done what we needed to. The next move is O'Reilly's."

* * *

"_I see nothing other than a simple board game!"_

_

* * *

_

O'Reilly stalked around his office furiously. This was _not_ going well, not even remotely. While she hadn't broken his nose, Carson had certainly done her best to. Her partner _had_ broken Samurai's nose, and given him a rather impressive shiner. He scowled as he inspected his own bruised jaw line – he'd managed to turn his head so that his cheek caught the brunt of Carson's attack. Still, she had a damn good head-butt, she'd been well taught.

He scowled to himself – in part because it was partially _his_ fault she was so bloody well trained. Fury warred with pride in his chest – one of his own, turned against him, defying him to the last, but managing to have the guts to defy him even after the way things had been left. Still, her back was obviously still a point of severe pain for her – something Samurai could use if he ever needed to go up against her hand-to-hand. Long-distance, apart from possibly the Ginelli's, Damien O'Reilly had yet to find the assassin who could match her prowess. Up close and personal, things got tense when it was proper hand-to-hand combat, and not her garrotting someone, or stabbing them before they could respond.

He rubbed tiredly at his eyes. Now was not the time to be thinking about this. She'd made her move. Now it was time to plan his own retaliatory move. They seemed to have none of the advantages, but they had two very clear ones. One was of course Carson – she was an attribute that could not be overlooked in any plan he made. The other was the resources they obviously had at their fingertips – although it surprised him that NCIS had such resources, so maybe Carson's mysterious employers were the ones providing the intel. However, he had more of the advantages – he _knew_ who Carson was now, knew her weaknesses, and he had suspicions about the man who'd been with her, although he'd have to go and bug his geeks to get actual answers. NCIS had tight security measures, but those could be used against them. They also had an alarming number of glass windows that any assassin worth their salt could use to their advantage.

Still, perhaps it would be better to rattle Carson and her mysterious partner a bit, and the NCIS team while he was at it. He smiled to himself as a plan formulated itself in his head. Yes, that would do _very_ nicely.

Bishop takes Rook.

* * *

_Apologies for the chess references in here, I have an excuse! I recently saw the musical which is (by the way) __**awesome**__! The lyrics between the section breaks are the lines the Arbiter has at the beginning of the song 'The Deal (No Deal)'. I was listening to it and realized just how much it applied… The last line will be explained eventually. Possibly in the next chapter…not sure. :-D Let me know what you think!_


	11. Chapter 10

_Look at this with a healthy dose of 'everything will eventually be explained'. This chapter is **meant** to be slightly more humorous, along with a dose of what you get if you startle Jay awake and how Tony reacts to Jay being hurt. Oh, and C-Cl-4 is Carbon tetrachloride, a toxic cleaning agent, and I'm sure we all know what ammonia is.

* * *

_

I looked over at where Jay had settled into a chair in what looked to be a _very_ uncomfortable position. Her neck was rested on the top of the backrest, her feet were on my desk and her upper back and shoulders weren't touching anything. Her eyes were closed, and she was obviously going for another catnap. Gibbs walked in and kicked the base of the chair causing it to scoot backwards and Jay to slip from it and end up on the floor. She glared up at my boss, and with the swift change of facial expression, I nearly missed her grimace of pain.

"You're evil," she stated firmly. "That wasn't nice."

"Now's not the time to be napping," Gibbs pointed out.

"Why not?"

"_You're_ not the one with an assassin after you!"

"Meh, Samurai's second-rate. He got complacent after he joined O'Reilly. You could beat him up with one hand."

"I didn't do so well against him the last time I met him."

"You weren't expecting him. You'll be expecting him next time. Besides, I _always_ have assassins after me. Wanted by a lot of people. Doesn't exactly make for easy sleeping, I figure a federal building is probably the best place. Unless…are you intending to kill me?" Jay's look of comical innocence crossed with a distinct watering had Gibbs blinking.

I tried not to burst out laughing, I really did, but the way Jay's glance flicked to me and her eyebrows shot up in another comical expression did it and I fell out of my seat to join her on the floor. She aimed a casual punch at my arm, settling against the side of my desk gingerly and stealing my cap from the bottom draw of my filing cabinet to pull low over her eyes.

"Besides, there's not much I can really do. I'm not an investigator. I generally get my intel from snitches, or from spending hours on cliffs or rooftops with a sniper rifle and a radio. And right now, my snitches are avoiding me thanks to O'Reilly being in town, and there's no-one I can stake out."

"Of course," Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Seeing as we don't have a clue where O'Reilly and his lackeys are."

Jay gave a non-committal sound and crossed her arms over her chest, slumping further down the side of the desk.

"Trade the cap for a Stetson and you could be a cowboy in the old west," I noted.

"Yup, but there's no Stetson here to use, so I'll settle with the cap."

I grinned at her as I retook my seat and went back to trying to figure out where in hell's name O'Reilly and Samurai were. I had a feeling Jay knew more than she was letting on, but she wasn't talking so I was stuck with good old fashioned detective work. Gibbs snarled down at her as she seemed to drift off into sleep. I focused on my computer, ignoring the assassin asleep beside my desk.

* * *

Half an hour later, chaos arrived in the bullpen, courtesy of McGee forgetting Jay had her legs stretched across the gap between our desks, and tripping over said legs. This startled Jay into action as she came up, grabbing _my_ gun, and her own knife, knocking McGee from his feet with a sweep of her legs and pinning him down with one knee, her knife at his throat and the gun resting on his forehead. Gibbs moved forward, clearly intent on pulling Jay off McGee, which sent Jay into a roll back off McGee to come to her feet in a guarded position, knife arm held tight to her body, gun pointed at the new threat.

"Jay," I stated, not bothering to really look up. "Stand down. NCIS. Federal agency. They're not about to kill you."

"I bet they probably want to though," Jay pointed out shakily as she obeyed. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"Do you generally do that to people who startle you awake?" Kate asked.

"It's why I normally have at least three locked and deadbolted doors between me and the outside world if I'm sleeping. Makes it harder for people to startle me awake. Be thankful I was semi-aware. If I'd been on full auto-pilot Probie and Cancrach would both have bullet holes in them right now."

"That was you controlled?"

"You don't want to see what a distracted assassin can do when startled," I offered. "It looks like a Bosch painting plus blood." I leered. "Either that or you end up in bed with them."

"I've never ended up in bed with you," Jay protested, then paused. "Wait…that's bullshit, there was that one time…but we were both drunk…and Indy was there as well…and just as drunk as us…that was a _good_ night…"

I reached out and hit Jay upside the head.

"What was _that_ for?"

"Now is not the time to be discussing _that_."

"There's a bad time to discuss sex?"

"There is when it's involving you and I'm sober."

"Ouch! I think there might've been an insult in there somewhere!"

I could tell that Jay was baiting me. I stood up, leant forward and brought my hand down on the centre of her back. I was completely expecting the fist to the face that I didn't get, not the pained grimace and wince, her eyes flickering closed and her teeth cutting into her bottom lip that I actually got.

"We're going to see Ducky," I stated, stepping around my desk and grabbing her arm to drag her down to autopsy. We made it into the elevator before she yanked her arm away from me.

"Not happening," she growled at me. "I'm fine."

I reached out and hit the emergency stop. "Uh-huh. You know I'm not going to believe that one. I _know_ you Jay."

"You're still not dragging me down to _Autopsy_. I'm not _dead_. …not yet anyway…"

"It's the last part of that statement that worries me."

"Dear, my death risk equals incredibly high. My survival risk is considerably lower. I'm avoiding morgues like the plague. I figure I'll see it soon enough anyway, so I'm not seeing it any sooner than I have to."

"At least let me take a look at your back?"

"It's fine. So long as people don't start beating up on it."

"And if someone does?"

Jay shot me a look, and then stretched. "Then I guess it's up to you to get my ass outta the fire."

"That's if I'm there. What do you do if I'm not?"

"Die."

It was said with a finality that I would've found chilling if I hadn't already figured that to be her answer. She shrugged and reached out to haul me into a hug. I hooked my arms around her lower back, pulling her closer and burying my face in her shoulder – her top smelt faintly of gun oil and sweat. It was a strangely comforting mix, reminding me of the old days.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, one hand stroking the back of my head, the other drawing soothing circles on my shoulder. "We both knew I didn't have a long life expectancy. Leaving the O'Reilly's just means it got a bit shorter for me. But I'm good. You _know_ I'm good. I'll be fine."

She kept up the soothing mantra until I pulled away, at which point she smiled at me.

"Let's just avoid the morgue huh?"

"Agreed," I nodded. "Let's get back to the bullpen before Gibbs sues me for copyright infringement."

"Copyright infringement?" Jay blinked at me, confused.

"He's the one who always uses this lift as a conference room."

"I see…"

I frowned as I hit the emergency stop. "At least…I _think_ that's what him and Fornell are doing in here, I _hope_ it is…"

"Gibbs and Fornell, up a tree," Jay sang, "K, I, S, S, I, N, G. First comes-"

"Stop! Just stop now!"

"-Love, then comes marriage-"

"Please stop Jay, for the love of-!"

"-Then comes a baby in a gold-"

The elevator doors opened at that point and I shoved Jay out of them, following her. "You and me are going to spend some quality time in the gym, comprendi?"

"Ooh, I'm so scared!"

"After I go and scour my brain with C-Cl-4!"

"That's a bit dangerous dear…"

"Don't care, got to get these images out _somehow_!"

"What?" Jay offered with wide, innocent eyes. "I was just offering a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why…"

"You finish that sentence and I _will_ force-feed you ammonia!"

Jay was wise enough to take my word for that one and shut up, but the infuriating smirk on her lips told me I hadn't heard the last of it. Gibbs, Kate and McGee were staring at us. We looked back at them, then at each other, then back at the three stood watching us.

"Think we should tell them that the easiest way to get most of this information would to be going back to Murphy's and threatening the bartenders?" Jay asked in an offhand tone.

"Not happening," Gibbs snarled. "There's no-way in hell you're going back there, and certainly not to threaten someone."

"You threaten people all the time," I offered.

"I suspect," Jay mused, "that he probably doesn't then carry those threats out regardless of whether he got what he wanted."

I hit her upside the head. "What do you need me to do boss?"

"Your job," Gibbs growled out. I shared a quick look with Jay and headed for my desk.

"I'm going to hit the gym," Jay replied. "Need a quality workout if we're going to be going up against the O'Reilly's."

* * *

Three quarters of an hour later, I went up to join Jay in the gym. She'd drawn a crowd as she kick-boxed the crap out of a punching bag. I smirked to myself, quickly wrapped my hands and moved in, grabbing her and relocating her to the mats. She moved away from me and ducked into a guarded position.

"This that quality time in the gym you promised me?" her eyes were alight, a playful smile on her lips.

"You bet it is," I replied watching as she bounced easily on the balls of her feet, waiting for her to move.

If you ever want lessons on how not to telegraph your moves, go to an assassin. It doesn't matter whether or not they're melee combat trained, they're still damn good brawlers at worst, and bloody good fighters at best. They also know how not to telegraph their moves – having learnt either the easy way or the hard way. The easy way: watching other people get the crap beaten out of them when they telegraph a move. The hard way: getting the crap beaten out of them for telegraphing a move.

We circled each other, and I gave Jay a quick once over and noticed she was bare knuckle, bare foot, in other words, she was all in. Looked like I'd be doing this at the peril of revealing more than I wanted to. She moved, aiming a kick for my ribs. I danced to one side and threw a punch towards her face. She blocked easily, knocking my hand to one side and going as if to jerk her head into my nose. I backed off quickly and aimed a second punch towards her side. She reacted by grabbing my wrist and twisting, throwing me to the ground. I rolled backwards, flicking my wrist to free myself from the hold. She retreated, darting back across the mat and settling into a lower stance, beckoning me towards her. I smirked and shook my head, choosing to circle. Jay circled with me, waiting for me to make my move.

The crowd had grown – now that we'd taken it to the mats, and now that we weren't really doing any _specific_ martial art, but a mish-mash of all the fighting forms we knew. We weren't pulling our punches either, throwing them out as hard as we would if we were in a real fight, not a training one. Jay moved in close, grabbing my neck to start grappling, throwing a punch into my stomach and following it up with her knee before hauling my head down to try and knee it. I grabbed her knee before she could make contact and used it to throw her. She went into a backwards roll, coming back to her feet far enough away to recover before I could get close enough to throw a punch. So I kicked at her, she ducked under my kick, coming up directly under my leg, her neck catching my ankle, throwing my balance and sending me onto my ass. I was back on my feet in an instant, a low growl emanating in my throat. Her eyes lit up with eager anticipation. I circled again, taking the time to pull the wraps off my hands, they were just getting in my way. Jay had settled into a stance that was half bare-knuckle boxing, half something else as she circled me. I adopted a similar stance smirking at her as I knew I out-powered her. We were pretty evenly matched, but she was more used to evasion tactics, and cheating moves that used her opponent's strength against them than full frontal assaults and carefully powered blows. For a while we moved around one another, Jay doing her best to avoid my blows, and offering lighting fast jabs to my back as she danced behind me. Finally, I threw a punch that knocked Jay backwards, making her head snap up as it caught her jaw.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs' voice cut across my thoughts and the next thing I knew, Jay had me on the floor in a rather secure strangle hold, putting enough pressure that spots were starting to dance in front of my eyes.

"Sloppy!" she chided in a quiet tone. "Never get distracted, not by people yelling at you, not by anything. For crying out bloody loud. _You _taught me that!"

We split apart, and Jay climbed to her feet rather than rolling like she normally would. She offered me her hand, hauling me upright and grinning.

"You got me good, gonna have a right good bruise on my cheek this time tomorrow."

"You would if you bruised," I pointed out, flexing my shoulder gingerly. "I think you pulled something out of joint!"

"Man up Tony! You want the world thinking I'm tougher than you?"

"You are," I commented as we came to a stop in front of Gibbs and Ducky.

"What did you two think you were doing?" Ducky demanded. We shared a look before looking back to the Doctor.

"Training?" Jay hazarded.

"With that punch Anthony just threw? And the strangle hold you put him in?"

"That strangle hold was a training hold! I didn't knock him out! And as for his punch, I take worse from some of the guys I train with on a regular basis. They actually _leave_ bruises!"

"Ouch!" I protested, punching her arm hard. "I'm sorry if I didn't want to give you a concussion!"

"Concussion? I think my brain's asking _why_ I don't have one!"

"Children!" Ducky snapped at us. "Can we both focus for a moment? Anthony, what's wrong with your shoulder?"

"I wrenched something in it," I shrugged – then regretted that as pain shot through my shoulder. "A couple of painkillers and all will be well…"

"Hm, well, I want to check it out before you finish getting changed."

I noticed that Jay followed us into the men's locker room and perched herself on one of the sinks while Ducky got me out of my shirt.

"Leave," Gibbs ordered Jay curtly.

"I'm not one of your lackeys Agent Gibbs," she retorted coolly. "_You_ don't get to order me around. Hades had trouble doing that, why would _you_ be any different?"

"Did you just call me a lackey?" I asked her. She considered it.

"Yeah, think I did. Problem? When he tells you to jump, you're three foot in the air asking how high."

"Within reason."

"Fair point, I doubt you'd shoot someone just because he told you to. You'd want a decent reason."

"Most the times he's telling me to shoot people there is…ow! Ducky that _hurt_!"

"Did it?" Ducky asked innocently as Jay chuckled quietly. "Dearie me, well, I think some painkillers should do the job…"

"You're not related to a Francesca Western-Summers are you? I mean, she's one hell of a mean Doc…runs our Med-Centre, takes alarming and sadistic pleasure in putting pressure on any wounds I receive…"

"I don't derive any pleasure out of young Anthony hurting my dear."

"I see…that's what Demeter says as well…"

"I thought you said her name was Francesca Western-Summers?" Gibbs frowned over at Jay.

"Yeah, but I'm not supposed to know that. She _is_ one of high command."

"Then how do you know?"

"I steal personnel files. I like to know who's poking and prodding at me. And seeing as I'm one of Sector Three, Dee generally does all the work on us unless there's been a turf war…"

Gibbs shot her an odd look.

"Sector Three's the smallest, and unless we've been in the middle of a warzone and there's heavy casualties, Dee can normally patch us all up herself. And even when she can't, there's a limited number of her staff she'll let near us when we're injured. Most of them are actually black-belts in one or other martial art…" Jay blinked at Gibbs. "What? Injured assassins _really_ don't like being touched. We're too paranoid. You're too vulnerable, too open when you're injured, so you fight back. So Dee makes sure the people we're fighting can respond in kind. We're generally pretty thankful for it."

"How so?" Ducky asked curiously.

Jay grinned. "It means Dee can't yell when we accidentally beat up one of her staff. It tires her out."

"Miss Carson," Ducky looked up. "Take a seat, I want to take a look at your jaw."

"Why?"

"Because Anthony here didn't pull his last punch."

"Neither did I, hence the chokehold."

Ducky gave her an even stare and then looked pointedly at the bench where I'd just been sitting, before returning his gaze to her. After about three minutes she gave a tiny 'meep' and scuttled over to the bench.

"You _are_ related to Demeter. And if you're not, remind me to never introduce the two of you. The world would be doomed. Or at least…people who don't like medical care professionals… It's not anything personal Doc, it's just that we don't take too kindly to people poking and prodding at us. _Ow_!" She snapped the last bit as his fingers pressed to strongly on her cheekbone. Her fingers had caught into the belt hoop on her jeans.

I smirked at Jay. "Not laughing now are we?"

"Of course not."

"Stop talking," Ducky ordered, and Jay obeyed meekly, her head almost ducking. After a few minutes prodding, Ducky pronounced Jay's jaw fine, told me to rest my throat and shoulder, and gave us orders to go back to mine and get showers. Gibbs started to protest, but quickly quietened down after Ducky shot him a particularly spectacular glare.

* * *

We made it back to mine with no trouble and I offered Jay the use of my en suite – an offer she took gratefully, mumbling something about tense muscles, and the need for a bath. I shook my head fondly, grabbed what I needed from my en suite and headed for the hall shower room.

Ten minutes later, it occurred to me that the feeling in the shower room was off.

* * *

_Dun-dun-duuh!_


	12. Chapter 11

_The author wishes to apologize for her tardiness. She claimed 24-48 hours for an update. It has now been closer to 192 hours. On the bright side, here's an update..._

* * *

Jay knew something was wrong the second she stepped out of the bath. Worry, for the moment, overtook practicality, she secured a towel around herself, and grabbed her Taurus Millennium from where she'd laid it on the toilet seat, checked the chamber out of habit, clipped her phone onto her ear and slipped silently through the apartment with it at the ready. It took her five minutes to ascertain two things. One: she'd overestimated the security system and let her guard down too far. Two: Tony was missing.

"_Shit_!" she cursed harshly, refraining from punching the wall. She hit the 'Call' button on her headset. "Call, Tantalus." She paced restlessly as she waited, one hand clutching her gun and towel to her chest.

"_Yello?"_ the welcome voice of Simon 'Tantalus' Carmichael echoed over the earpiece.

"Si?" she questioned needlessly. "We got a situation…" She reeled off the pertinent details about Tony going missing, and gave the address. It was only after she'd hung up that she realized she'd need to call Gibbs. She exhaled sharply and hit the call button again. "Call…" she reeled off Gibbs' cell number and waited

"_Gibbs?"_ the curt tone was completely at odds with Tantalus' laconic response.

"Tony's gone," she snapped. "Get here now."

She hung up without waiting for a response. A sigh escaped her lips, and she paced the apartment restlessly, clutching her handgun to her chest in comfort. Gibbs and his team stormed the apartment guns drawn and Jay span to face them, bringing her gun up, finger tightening on the trigger. She relaxed, her shoulders slumping, and her spare hand coming up to clutch at the towel. Tantalus appeared in the doorway.

"This a private party or can anyone join in?" he asked.

"Who the hell are you?" Gibbs demanded.

"Simon Carmichael, everyone," Jay stated wearily, gesturing between the NCIS team and Tantalus. "Everyone, Simon Carmichael, otherwise known as Tantalus. He's been shadowing Ducky. I called him in."

"On who's orders?"

"My own prerogative. We need more muscle, and with Tony gone, I want back-up. Plus, this makes Si's job easier. He can do it without having to sneak around."

* * *

Gibbs glared at Carson who glared back. He didn't like this woman, not one shred, she was shrewd, cold, young, and not the kind of person to back down (that said, Ducky had stared her down earlier). He also didn't like the introduction of another one of her colleagues into the mess, it was likely to either overcomplicate things, or make them even more dangerous than before. He also didn't like that Carson was stood in the middle of his Senior Field Agent's longue in a bath-towel and nothing else, clutching a gun to her chest like a teddy-bear (it made him wonder what her upbringing had been like that she equated a gun with comfort).

"Do you mind if I get dressed?" Carson asked tartly. "It's a bit chilly stood here in a towel, and I'm sure I'd be more helpful in clothes."

Gibbs gave a dismissive wave, and decided not to stop Carmichael as he followed the younger woman. He could hear quiet conversation from DiNozzo's room and quickly set his team to processing the rest of the apartment – he might not think much of Carson, but it was obvious that she was fond of DiNozzo, and he doubted that she'd tamper with evidence that might help them locate him. Gibbs noted the pictures on the side-table, and picked up the one face-down, intrigued. He noticed it was of a teen leant against a sea-front wall at sunset. The girl was anorexically thin, an angry brand-mark he could almost see pulsing in the middle of her upper back, a set of tally-mark tattoos covering her lower back, and a barcode tattoo on her shoulder. He frowned at it, there was something familiar about the woman…

Carson and Carmichael reappeared, Carson now dressed, with one of Tony's shirts slung around her shoulders. She quickly filled him in on what she knew, with surprisingly few embellishments, just fired off the facts – like a combat-trained soldier Gibbs noted idly – offering that the bedroom and en suite could be ruled out as she certainly would've heard something if they'd been in there. Gibbs nodded and they focused their search on the hall bathroom, Carson pulling on a set of leather gloves as opposed to a set of latex ones like the NCIS team. Carmichael just tucked his hands behind his back and pleaded off due to the fact that he'd never been in the apartment before.

Gibbs looked over at Carson who was inspecting the shower-room from outside the door.

"Anything out of place?" he asked.

"You mean aside from the fact that Tony's missing and his clothes are still here?" Carson asked incuriously. "Yeah, the bottles over there have been messed with… Not much, but it's something. Oh, and you might want to steam up the mirror. Tony liked long, hot showers. A message may have been left on the mirror."

"Anything else?"

"Can't think of anything else…can I go back to Murphy's and threaten the bartenders now?"

"Not without me."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"To finish up here."

Carson stuck her tongue out at him, and stalked restlessly around the living room. She saw the photo Gibbs had righted and snapped the frame back face-down, her lips twisting into a deadly scowl. Gibbs absently picked up one of the photo albums while Kate and McGee processed the small bathroom. It held pictures of the same anorexic teen, Tony, a woman who was obviously Tony's late wife, and occasionally a baby boy which Gibbs assumed was Dante. Carson gave a frustrated sigh and stalked back into Tony's room, Gibbs shadowed her silently, unsure of what she was doing. When he got there, he found her sat on the floor, a rifle case in front of her. She barely glanced up before opening the case and rapidly assembling the rifle (Gibbs checked his watch – an impressively fast time). Then, she broke it down again and checked each of the individual components to see if they needed cleaning, producing a cleaning kit to do so. She looked up at Gibbs after a few minutes.

"Surprised?" she asked steadily, her hands continuing to move.

Gibbs decided not to say anything. Carson snorted quietly, returning her attention to the rifle.

"Don't be, I was practically raised with a gun in my hand. I'll bet I can handle this rifle better than you can."

"Is that a fact?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"No, it's a bet. I don't know which of us is better. It'd be fun finding out though." She flashed him a sharp grin, while her eyes seemed to be ages old, like some of the old combat vets Gibbs had seen in his day. "Besides, this is just me trying to calm down, it's soothing to be able to clean a gun, mine's already fine."

Well at least one of Gibbs' questions was answered – the reason she was so comfortable clutching a gun to her bare skin - she's been raised with guns.

"Um boss?" Kate came in looking both confused and nervous. "You might want to look at this…"

Carson rose to her feet to follow the two agents.

On the now dusted mirror a sentence stood out. _'Bishop takes Rook. Your move Agent Gibbs.'_

"Mean anything to you?" Gibbs looked at Carson who had a furious look on her face.

"It's O'Reilly," she ground out, her hand clenching and obviously trying not to punch the wall. "He plays chess. He looks at this 'battle' in terms of chess. It's what he does. Can we go and threaten the bartenders at Murphy's now?"

Gibbs looked over at her, and then nodded to her. "Yeah. McGee, Kate, finish up here. Carson, you're with me."

"And me?" Carmichael asked from where he was leant against a wall.

"You stay here with McGee and Kate. Then go back to the Yard with them. Carson, c'mon."

"Give me a second to grab my gear," Carson nodded towards the bedroom, already heading for it rapidly. Two minutes later she returned, throwing a rucksack onto one shoulder carefully.

* * *

They arrived at Murphy's with a screech of tires, and a still unimpressed looking Jay. They climbed out of the car, Jay's gun now in a holster on her hip, covered mostly by her jacket. They strode into the bar. It was fairly empty – not yet opening time, and the few patrons took one look at the pair entering and decided that getting coffee elsewhere was a good idea. Hitters' maybe, but idiots they were not. Jay leapt up and sat on the bar itself, grabbing the bartender and pulling him close.

"Now you're going to tell me where O'Reilly is," she stated calmly.

"I am?" the man retorted. "He'd kill me."

Jay frowned and glanced over at the silent, threatening looking Gibbs. "I can't legally shoot him can I?"

"Legally no," Gibbs stated. "But there's something over in the corner of the club I want to take a look at, I'll be back shortly."

Jay smiled wickedly as Gibbs turned his back and headed for the back of the club, clearly getting where she was going. She freed her gun from its holster and pointed it at the man's knee.

"Where's O'Reilly?" she asked in a far too pleasant voice. "It's either you give him up, or you lose your kneecaps."

The bartender actually looked panicked at that thought. "Look, I don't _know_ where he is! I just know he's somewhere _near_ here. He doesn't actually _tell_ me where his base is!"

"Who would know?"

"I-"

"Who would know?" Jay clicked the safety off her gun. She noticed Gibbs glancing back, clearly worried she actually _would_ shoot the guy.

"O'Reilly hitters! I couldn't name them all! You probably know who they are better than I do!"

Jay smiled frostily. "Thank you. That wasn't so hard now was it?"

The bartender merely glared balefully at her. She turned slightly and nodded to Gibbs as he walked back over.

"Find what you were looking for?"

"Yes," Gibbs nodded.

"You actually _work_ with _her_?" the bartender asked amazed.

"Not exactly."

"She's, she's…"

Jay turned to look at him, smiled sweetly, and leapt off the bar.

"You crazy bitch!" the bartender exclaimed. Jay's face went stony, she turned around leant over the bar and shot the bartender's knee out. He went down screaming.

"You're right," she grinned. "But I use it to my advantage. Good day. Oh shut up, it's not that painful, I didn't shatter your kneecap."

She turned and stalked out, Gibbs taking a look at the man on the floor before deciding that it would probably be a better idea just to get the hell out of dodge. He found Jay making a call.

"Hello, yes, I'd like to report a gunshot victim…" she stated, her accent suddenly sounding Australian. "Uh-huh, no, I can't stay on the line sorry… Here's the address…" She reeled off the address for Murphy's and then hung up the phone. She gave Gibbs a strained smile. "Sorry, 'bout that. This way he won't have a chance to call O'Reilly."

"And you figure that how?"

"Well, the phone was a good ten metres from where I dropped him, the ambulance crew won't let him make a call, he won't cough to knowing O'Reilly at the hospital and all outgoing calls are monitored."

Gibbs couldn't help but be slightly impressed by Carson's reasoning and obvious knowledge of what was going on.

"Shall we get back to the Navy Yard?"

Gibbs decided to test Carson, he offered her the car keys. "You drive."

Carson smirked at him. "You _sure_ you want me to do that?"

Gibbs just gave her an implacable stare and she shrugged.

"Coolio."

* * *

By the time they reached the Yard, Gibbs was regretting his decision, Carson didn't seem aware that there _was_ such a thing as a Highway Code – sure Gibbs might ignore it, but he obeyed the more important rules in it most of the time. They headed up to the bullpen where Carmichael shot a look at them.

"You let Carson drive?" he sounded slightly amazed. "Hell I only do that when _ordered_ to let her drive. She learnt as a getaway driver."

"Bullshit!" Carson exclaimed, hitting Carmichael on the shoulder in a comradely fashion. "You let me drive when you want to terrify our passengers!"

The two of them trailed off when they noticed the glare Gibbs was aiming at them. He continued to glare until they started to shift uncomfortably.

"He's like Nemesis isn't he?" Carmichael noted to Carson. She nodded.

"Oh yeah. What do you want us to do Gibbs?"

"Find out where O'Reilly is holding my second ten minutes ago, Todd, McGee, you too," Gibbs ground out. "I'm going to get Dante."

"You'll want these," Carson rooted through her bag before handing Gibbs a container with hearing aids in them. "Lee can sign both BSL and LIS so he doesn't need them with her."

Gibbs frowned slightly at Carson and then left to go and collect Tony's son – he didn't want the boy out there when his father had been kidnapped. It annoyed him that he hadn't ordered Kate and McGee to go and collect the boy – then again, Carson's cold contained fury at O'Reilly's involvement and her determination to go and threaten GBH to the bartender at Murphy's had taken up most of his attention, but he was cursing himself for the slip-up.

* * *

Gibbs returned to the bullpen an hour later, having deposited Dante with Abby – and leaving the two of them eagerly teaching each other their sign language. Carson and Carmichael had appropriated Tony's desk, place the keyboard to one side and were arguing over a map, both pointing out various locations and striking them off what was obviously a mental checklist (Gibbs could tell that the argument was them playing devil's advocate, and Carmichael had a pad resting next to his hand which he occasionally made a note on). Kate and McGee had their heads buried in their computers, obviously going over what they already knew.

"Report," Gibbs rapped out.

"We're working on where O'Reilly might be based," Carson barely looked up, her eyes still scanning the map. "Anywhere within a reasonable driving distance, not more than an hour, and not towards a city. Possibly a warehouse district, abandoned industrial estate, that kind of thing."

"McGee?"

"None of the cameras near Tony's apartment show anything out of the ordinary," McGee reported. "And there's no sign of Tony beyond him and Ms Carson going in…"

"Well _duh_!" Carmichael mumbled. "They're not idiots. Of _course_ they're not on the CCTV…"

"Si," Carson hissed at him.

Gibbs ignored them turning to Kate and lifting an eyebrow. Kate leant back in her seat, pulling a pad towards her.

"From what I can tell, O'Reilly is an incredibly sadistic man," she started. Gibbs caught both Carmichael and Carson shuddering slightly out of the corner of his eyes. "Quite possibly psychopathic from his actions in Murphy's…" She didn't mention that Carson's actions had been very similar, although it wasn't clear who'd moved first, so the woman in the bullpen could argue self-defence, especially after he'd put her down. "I'd guess at anger management issues. Either way he's a very dangerous man. As for Samurai, from his single-minded pursuit of you, I'd guess he's obsessive but probably not a psychopath."

Gibbs nodded to himself. That tallied up with his thinking. He shot a look over to where Carmichael and Carson were both sharing an impressed look.

"Alright, back to work," Gibbs ordered.

They all ducked their heads back to what they were doing, and Gibbs stalked down to Autopsy to talk to Ducky.

"Ah, Jethro," Ducky greeted him. "How goes the search?"

"We're working on it," Gibbs stated.

"Not well then. Are there any clue?"

"If Carmichael and Carson are finding anything, they're not telling us."

"I'm sure they would, from what I've observed of young Jay at least, she cares deeply for Anthony."

"Yeah, and I'm wondering how deeply. And what their past is."

"I suspect the only way of doing that is to ask either one of them about it. But I suspect they shall both be rather close-lipped on the subject. You saw how they were in the gym."

Gibbs nodded.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Ducky offered blandly. "I think it would help you relax slightly."

"I don't _want_ to relax! I want to find DiNozzo!"

"You'll find him. But you're of no use to anyone if you're working yourself up about it."

Gibbs glared at Ducky, who as ever was being horrifically rational.

"Jethro, be reasonable, you have an excellent team…"

"Minus my best investigator!"

Ducky continued as though Gibbs had never spoken. "…And the assistance of two people who _know _who you are dealing with. Do not doubt the people you are working with."

Gibbs stayed silent. He couldn't help but doubt Carson and Carmichael, they were hit-people. They killed for personal gain, or they had, perhaps they still did. He'd killed for his country, and he may have killed the murderer of his wife and daughter, but he'd felt guilt afterwards. He could tell from their reactions to _any_ discussion about death that they felt _no_ remorse for the people they'd killed. They would do what was best for them – not for the NCIS team. They were loose canons. But something told him they'd still get Tony back as safe as possible…but would they do it in a way that meant Gibbs would have to arrest them? There was doubt warring with a form of trust in his mind.

"They will get Anthony back," Ducky as always, seemed to read Gibbs' mind. "They seem to care about him as much as yourself, Caitlin and Timothy."

Gibbs looked down. "Perhaps. But what lengths do you think they'll be willing to go to?"

"Miss Carson will probably put her life down for Anthony. I saw the look in her eye when you all returned to here. She is willing to go above and beyond what anyone else here would – because she is capable of doing so without having guilt chase her."

Gibbs frowned, he hadn't considered the possibility that Carson's lack of guilt would actually prove to be a boon to them, rather than a con. He nodded and left, heading back up to the bullpen. Carmichael had just grabbed something out of Carson's hands.

"_Antonino_ _Ginelli_?" Carmichael exclaimed. "What the hell Carson?"

"Bullshit," Carson responded, snatching the slip of paper back and very effectively shredding it into Tony's bin. "Leave it alone Si." The threat under her words was obvious, and Carmichael took it, and left her alone.

Gibbs blinked – Antonino Ginelli? Who the hell was that? And what the hell had that slip of paper said? Chances of finding out were now close to none seeing as it had been torn into so many tiny pieces Gibbs was unlikely to be able to locate them all, and Abby may like jigsaws and puzzles, but she didn't like them _that_ much.

* * *

_Oh, and you will find out who the girl in the pictures is :-D_


	13. Chapter 12

_A/N: Aloha! Revelations galore in this chapter! And we finally get somewhere with locating Tony...

* * *

_

Five hours later, they still had nothing – apart from the obscure message on the mirror, and the few titbits Carson had managed to extract from Murphy's manager. Gibbs sighed and took a moment to step back from the investigation and scrutinize Jay Carson. He'd never really looked at her, just given her an assessing look and jumped to the wrong conclusion of common, garden variety gun-for-hire, ignoring his own rule of never assume anything. Now, he tried to see where he'd gone wrong.

She was currently in crisis-mode, stood over a computer, spitting curses and pleas at it in equal measures and inhaling cigarettes like it was going out of fashion (which admittedly it was, no-one thought to mention that smoking was against the law in federal buildings). Her short hair had been clipped out of the way, catching the light in a shimmering blue-black like a raven's feathers, a few loose strands falling down across her face, one strand leaving a curved shadow over on of her eyes. Her eyes were a startling amber, cool and steady, and the only true indicator of her thoughts. For all her face remained impressively and relentlessly blank when questioned, her eyes gave her away. A sardonic smile might hide a flash of panic from an untrained interrogator, but not Gibbs – not anymore at least. She'd shed her jacket, and the shirt she'd obviously borrowed from Tony, leaving her in a tight, black sleeveless top that showed off her clearly visible ribs. She was obviously clinically underweight, yet alike to Tony, her diet appeared to consist of junk food. Her wrists were bony, but filled with wiry muscles, as were her arms – her upper right arm held the scars from where a tattoo had been removed by laser surgery a cross seemingly bound in chains with 'RIP' inscribed into the crossbar just underneath the scar, while a cobra ran around her left, it's head resting on her shoulder. Her upper back was covered, but when she leant down, her top rode up, and Gibbs could see the bottom of another tattoo stretching across her lower back. She was pretty, but then again, maybe pretty wasn't the right word. Her skin sported what was obviously a near permanent tan, and her face was weather beaten. He wouldn't have placed her as twenty-four, not by a long way, he would've said late twenties, early thirties, yet there was something undeniably young about her. Perhaps it was the face that her style seemed more in keeping with the current generation of teens. Gibbs could honestly say that he wouldn't be surprised if she turned up with a death metal t-shirt, a dozen piercings, tight leather pants, sporting a spiked dog collar and rings that should be declared lethal weapons.

Gibbs wanted Jay Carson to lose her cool façade. With the lawyer – Nemesis – at least you knew she was looking at you with the calculating speculation of an IA investigator who was waiting to see if you slipped up. With Jay, it was more like she was watching you waiting for the moment at which you gave her the opening she needed to end you. She kept her distance, throwing out bluntly honest observations that made most people back-off. She was the same mass of mirrors and smokescreens as Tony, only, where Tony used his to charm people (colleagues, witnesses and suspects alike), Jay used hers for the opposite purpose, to keep people away (especially, Gibbs noted clinically, men, and certain women of questionable sexuality).

There were three questions that were bugging him.

One: Who was the teen in the photo-album and the facedown frame?

Two: Who was Antonino Ginelli?

Three: What was the connection between Jay Carson, Anthony DiNozzo, the unnamed teen and Antonino Ginelli?

Oh, and four: Was the similarity between DiNozzo and Ginelli's first names a mere coincidence?

The other had all disappeared off to various corners of the building in an attempt to gain _any_ information possible. Carson leant down, sighing sharply in frustration.

"I need a swim," she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"We have a pool," Gibbs supplied offhand. Carson shot him a look, as if to say 'I _know_ that'.

"Yeah, in the level below autopsy. That seems a tad perverse to me, but hey! I kill people for a living, what do I know?"

She rolled her neck and exhaled again as Gibbs took note of the almost bitter comment. Then, she grabbed her bag, jacket, and Tony's shirt.

"Where are you going?" Gibbs demanded shortly.

"For a swim," she said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, before sauntering out of the bullpen.

Tony had been missing for five hours, assumed in the hands of the psychopath assassin godfather O'Reilly, and Carson was going for a _swim_?

"She thinks best in the water," the voice behind him alerted him to the presence of Tantalus, Ducky's shadow and Jay's first port of call when she'd discovered Tony MIA (and didn't _that_ rub Gibbs' up the wrong way).

"What?" had Gibbs spoken that last part aloud? Clearly.

"Jay, if she has a particularly difficult hit, or a problem to work out, she'll take a swim and come back with a fresh perspective and often a solution. She's not as on edge in the water either. She relaxes a bit."

Gibbs wasn't sure if this man was aware he'd just offered a way to try questioning Carson and get non-evasive answers.

"It'll help that it's near midnight."

With that, Tantalus disappeared again. It unnerved Gibbs that the two assassins just appeared and disappeared so suddenly. Not one of his remaining, un-kidnapped team really liked them (apart from perhaps Ducky), or their presence, but seeing as the only person Stateside who had any authority was Nemesis, and getting through to the mysterious Changeling organization was one of the most difficult things Gibbs had ever attempted, they were stuck with the two bodyguards. Gibbs decided to give Carson half-an-hour, then follow her down.

* * *

Jay dived into the pool and swam five lengths, coming up only briefly for air towards the end of each length. Then she settled into her strange, hybrid stroke, twisting over at the end of each length to kick off the wall. The pool was empty, but she was in the centre and swimming straight. There'd always been something therapeutic about swimming, since she was a little girl it had been her escape. Her other hobbies had been utter necessities (climbing, shooting, knife-throwing, MMA, languages, gymnastics to name a few). While swimming was useful, it was a rarely called upon skill. Truth be told, it was her escape from the macho bullshit that always invaded the hitter bases she'd grown up in. (There'd been four active women that she was aware of, only one of whom was regularly at any base when Jay was growing up). Jay had never had much weight, height had come suddenly at fourteen, and it was in the days before she'd realized the best way to win a fight against impossible odds. If you can't win, cheat – a guy's balls are often left open when they forget their opponent's a girl who is severely out-powered – if you can't cheat, run (she was faster than them and could fit in the ventilation shafts). Bruises had been common, broken bones unsurprising, and escaping to swimming pools simplistic. Then again, the moment someone had started making sexual advances towards her, they'd rapidly ended up dead. Trips to swimming pools in the middle of the night had always ended with her floating in the middle of the pool dreaming of a father who paid attention and a mother who'd actually cared enough to keep contact with her daughter. It varied whether she was face up.

Jay stopped midstroke, took a deep breath and curled under the water with only her back still on display. Normally that gave her serious pause for thought, but right now, her thoughts were a disorganized mess. Swimming was resolving _nothing_. She stayed curled up under water until her lungs began to ache. She could've stayed longer, but any real thoughts of causing herself harm or death had long since vanished. With an ease that spoke of much practise, she unfurled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, breathing steady, ears still immersed in the strange, peaceful, muted underwater world.

It took her thirty seconds to notice another presence in the room and she spent another minute thirty trying not to tense up and remain completely at ease in the pool as she located the interloper. He'd moved so he was parallel with her at the edge of the pool, silver grey hair impressed itself on her consciousness.

_Gibbs_.

She took two minutes to decide on a course of action.

"Agent Gibbs," she stated, lifting her ears above the water to hear his response.

"I was wondering when you'd acknowledge me," Gibbs commented with a vague grin. "You've been aware of me for three minutes."

Jay didn't bother to correct him. After all, it worked in her advantage if he underestimated her, even by a minute. "What d'you want?" her voice was perfectly neutral.

Gibbs didn't answer straight away, taking a moment to carefully formulate a response. "Just wanted to clear a few things up in the investigation that might help."

Ah, he was here to interrogate her. She'd go along with it. For now. "Go for it." ('Shoot' could (and would) be taken far too seriously for Jay to ever use the word in casual conversation).

"Don't you want to be out of the pool?"

"I'm fine here." Thank you _very_ much.

Gibbs picked up on the unspoken edge to her tone and settled down next to the pool. He was silent for a while before starting off the questioning. "The teen in the photo-albums, and in the photo-frame you turned face down. Who is she?"

Difficult question straight off? _Ouch_. "Not even an ease in question? That's fast."

"I'm not interrogating you." (Not yet, Jay's mind added in). "I'm just asking questions which I think you know the answers to."

"She's dead. S'all you need to know."

"How'd she die?"

"Due to a hellsent, bastardly fucker of a cock-up."

"But how?"

"Not really important."

"Does the name Antonino Ginelli mean anything to you?"

"Yup."

Gibbs waited for her to elaborate. She didn't – to get the right answer, you needed the right question, she would've thought an interrogator of Gibbs' rumoured calibre would know that.

"_What_ does the name Antonino Ginelli mean to you?" Gibbs' voice was cool, and unperturbed, almost as thought he'd expected the silence.

Jay moved to tread water, considering the best response to give to that. "To me," she stated slowly, almost pensively, drawing the words out. "To me it means you're digging up a lot of ghosts better left dead. People won't thank you for asking these questions."

Gibbs glared at her, but glares had never bothered her before – least of all when she was facing the person over three metres of water. Finally, Gibbs continued.

"So what's the connection between the four of you?" his voice sounded offhand, as though he couldn't really care less about the connection.

Jay sighed, she couldn't escape this interrogation. "We knew each other. Once upon a time, far away from here." She paused, then offered Gibbs a fatalistic smile. "Heh, back in the 'good old days'. Before Ginelli and Shan died. Before I found out that I had other options. Man I feel old…"

"Shan? Is that the girl in the photos?"

Jay didn't respond. Her sanctuary, her escape, was being used against her, and the only thing she could do about it was shut up, or redirect. She snarled. "I'm going to _kill_ him!"

Gibbs seemed taken aback by the ferocity of the statement, and the sudden change of topic.

"And rest assured Agent Gibbs. He _deserves_ it."

Her voice had dropped to a deadly, ice-cold whisper, nearly lost in the strange atmosphere of the pool.

* * *

Gibbs heard the whisper. This woman managed to scare him. Heck, she was still a child. Hell, Gibbs was old enough to be her father! Yet there was the fact that (to quote Jay) she was raised with a gun in her hand. He'd seen her assemble that sniper rifle in Tony's apartment in a little under one minute ten, and he was certain she could hold a single, not necessarily comfortable position, for hours. He kept watching her as she tread water silently, eyes blazing furiously.

"Well Agent Gibbs, I think it's time we got back to work," Jay smiled, her dark expression suddenly banished. "I think I have a few ideas now…a few places that he liked too much to give up…"

Gibbs saw a smirk curl around her lips.

"Sometimes I thank heaven above that he gets attached to things too easily sometimes…"

Laughter echoed around the empty hall.

"Sometimes you just need to take a break and you get sudden inspiration. Take a step back and it suddenly becomes clearer…"

Gibbs rose to his feet as Carson swam backwards towards the edge.

"I'll be up in a moment Agent Gibbs," she assured him. "I need to shower first."

Gibbs nodded and left the hall. He turned just at the door and saw Carson haul herself out of the pool, and narrowed his eyes at her back – a burnt red brand-mark and tally-mark tattoos, elaborate writing underneath the tally-marks, running to just under her bikini bottoms. He frowned at them, almost went to confront the woman, but didn't. Something told him he wouldn't get any real answers out of her even if he did. He'd confront her later.

* * *

When Jay returned to the bullpen, she could tell from how Gibbs was looking at her that something was different. Immediately, she started running back over her actions getting out of the swimming pool.

Swim backwards towards the wall as Gibbs walks away…

Watch Gibbs leave, turn around…

Wait…Watch Gibbs get to the door, turn around…

"Shit!" Jay cursed quietly.

"What?" Simon appeared behind her and was treated to a deadly glare.

Jay looked around, leant close to Simon, grabbed his collar and hauled him closer. "Let's just say _you_ get to explain to Hades _why_ Agent Gibbs knows who I am."

"He does…"

"No, let me rephrase. You get to explain to Hades why Agent Gibbs _knows __**who**_ I am."

"That was careless."

"When have I been careful when swimming Simon darling?"

"That wasn't intentional!" Simon protested quietly.

"But you did it anyway. You explain it to Hades you son of a bitch."

She turned away sharply, moving back towards Gibbs who had been watching their 'argument' with incurious eyes. "Agent Gibbs…"

The elevator went and Jay and Simon's heads both snapped to it, instincts already on high-alert telling them something was off. A man stepped out in a suit, looking like he belonged in the bullpen at first glance, but Gibbs, Jay and Simon all recognized him. Jay immediately knocked Gibbs from his feet, Simon ducking as the gun Samurai had somehow smuggled past the front desk was pulled out. Jay rolled away from Gibbs as it went off, grabbing her own gun, not her Taurus pistol, but her Beretta 9-mil, and a spare clip to slip into her pocket, taking a shot a Saumrai, knowing it was going to go wide, and hoping to scare him upwards. It succeeded, and with a smirk, Jay took off up the stairs after him, Gibbs yelling at her to come back and Simon trying to locate his own gun from wherever he'd stashed it. She hit the roof and made the mistake of running straight through the door. Samurai's arm connected with her gun hand, sending the gun skittering away across the floor. Jay dove sideways to avoid the left cross he threw at her, regrettably in the opposite direction from where her gun went. She rolled to her feet as Samurai pointed his gun at her.

Jay cursed silently – _'stupidstupidstupidgirl! You __**always**__ go through doors slowly, and never with your gun arm out.'_

With that thought in her mind, she threw herself at Samurai, somehow managing to avoid the bullet that undoubtedly accompanied the shot she heard – and how the hell had she managed that? Samurai wasn't the _best_ shot in the world, but he wasn't _bad_. Then her mind pretty much detached and instinct took over.

They hit the roof with the second gun skidding along the roof to hit the wall around the edge as the two assassins fought furiously, punches, kicks, Jay even bit down sharply on Samurai's arm when it came in range of her mouth, Samurai had enough presence of mind to stop Jay getting a chance to reach her boot for her knife. It was just a pity, Jay's mind mumbled, barely distracted from the fight, that her nails were kept short for practicality reasons – it was impossible to scale walls if your fingers couldn't slip into shallow crevices because your nails wouldn't allow it. The door burst open, but both of them ignored it, with Samurai rolling so that he was straddling Jay, reaching down to try and gouge out one of her eyes. Without even thinking, Jay jerked her head back, moved her feet flat to the roof, and bucked her body up, throwing Samurai away and rolling back to her feet. Samurai had found himself with three guns trained on him – Simon had found his, Gibbs had made it up, and Kate had joined them, McGee still no-where to be seen.

Jay took a moment to assess the situation and then kicked out at Samurai, noting his position close to the roof-edge. He tumbled over, taken off guard by her sudden movement. Jay ignored Gibbs and Kate's infuriated cries, sauntering over to the edge and perching on it, looking down at Samurai who'd managed to grab onto a handhold.

"Hello Samurai," she smirked down at him. "How nice of you to drop by. What _can_ we do for you?"

"_Shana_," the name was gritted out, Samurai clearly not happy about the sudden change of odds.

"Oh come _on_. You can do better than that!"

"You could give me a hand up?"

"Can't you get yourself up? Oh yeah, I forgot, you can't free climb can you?" Jay leant back laughing. "Well, you don't get something for nothing. You should know that _honey_."

Samurai glared at her, but she could see fear flickering behind his eyes. "What do you want Shana?"

"What do you think? Where's O'Reilly keeping Tony?"

"O'Reilly? Seriously Shan, what happened to your respect for your elders? And who in hell's name is Tony?"

Jay shot a quick look back at Gibbs, Kate and Simon. From the look Simon was giving her, he'd connected the dots – he knew what the note she'd received from O'Reilly had meant, and who it referred to, but Gibbs and Kate were still a couple of steps behind, not for long though by the looks of things.

With an imperceptible sigh, Jay returned her gaze to Samurai. "Oh c'mon. You know Tony. He had his gun pointed at your balls in Murphy's…"

"'Nino? For real? He's NCIS now?"

"Yeah. So where are they?" Jay asked with a raised eyebrow.

Samurai reeled off an address, Jay calling it back to the other three.

"Very good. Next question, security measures?"

"Aside from the half-dozen assassins?" Samurai sniped at her.

"Smart-arse. O'Reilly isn't an idiot. Assassins aren't infallible. What else?"

"Ugh, you _really_ are a pitbull aren't you Shan?"

"Oh yeah. Answer the question before I shoot you in the foot."

"Three separate camera circuits, a dozen or so cameras on each. Heat sensors, pressure pads on all the main doors, secondary main doors with electronic locks…"

"Any geeks on site?"

"No."

"Remote connection?"

"No."

"Why're you telling me all this?"

"Because I don't want to die. Unlike _some_ people, I'm not suicidal."

"Newsflash mate, neither am I."

Samurai snorted. "Sure coulda fooled me Shana. You're going up against _Damien O'Reilly_. That is the _definition_ of suicidal. You were always insane girl. I swear you'd rile the old man up on purpose."

Jay considered ignoring the comment, before replying in a muted tone. "It was the only to get his attention. He was more focused on you and t'other one. And 'Nino and Indy _enjoyed_ riling him up, so I just joined in." She shook her head, clearing the memories. "It's in the past anyway. I hope you understand why I'm not going to give you a hand up just yet."

She slipped away from the edge of the roof.

Samurai had to have the last word however. "What about what 'Nino's achieved huh Shana? An assassin convincing his ex-marine boss that he's nothing more than a bumbling flat-foot?"

Jay's hand clenched at her side as she saw realization flood into Gibbs' eyes.

'_Sorry 'Nino,' _she thought. _'I tried to stop him finding out.'_

"Something you want to tell me, _Shana_?" Gibbs' voice was ice-cold and deadly.

Jay managed not to shudder and somehow stopped her voice trembling. "Sure. I know where Tony is, I need blueprints to figure out the best insertion and extraction."

Avoid the topic, refocus on the rescue attempt, don't let Gibbs ask questions.

Jay practically ran down the stairs to get away from Gibbs' calculating gaze.

* * *

_Ooh...more drama! Next chapter: Jay and Gibbs clash about how best to rescue Tony, and Nemesis points out who has the highest clearance..._


End file.
